Page 118 of Callan

Or a wife?

And he suddenly feels accountable to me?

We pretend that is the case.

“And do you know whether you’ll be going there or not?”

He lowers his eyes, a playful smile on his lips.

“I’m here with you, aren’t I?”

He brings his gaze to me, and his eyes reflect the memory of last night.

My words fall out like the winning lottery numbers from a spinning ball.

“Were you planning to meet a woman?”

It’s only logical to ask that question.

“Would you be mad if I were?”

This reminds me of the other question I have left unanswered.

The one about him being involved with some bad people. But this is different, and I have an answer.

“Yes. I’d be mad.”

He laughs.

“What’s so funny?” I ask.

“You.”

“Why?”

“You’re so damn cute when you’re angry.”

“This is not me being angry. You haven’t seen me angry. So were you?” I go on.

“Seeing other women?” he asks, his eyes smiling, his voice overflowing with tease.

“Please answer me.”

He runs his teeth over his lower lip, a pondering look on his face.

“How was the other guy?” he eventually asks.

“What guy?”

“The one who dropped you.”

“He didn’t drop me. We weren’t a good fit.”

“I can see why. You’re asking too many questions,” he continues, joking, of course.

“I never cared about where he went or whether he was seeing someone else. I trusted him.”

His eyes glint.

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