Page 18 of If He Hadn't Cheated
By nine, it’s packed.
The air smells like perfume, cologne, sweat, alcohol, and temptation.
I keep my head down. I pour drinks. I fake smiles. I collect cash.
And then I hear his voice.
Low.
Sharp.
Familiar.
Knox.
Again?
Why is he here?
I look up and find him near the end of the bar. Different jacket. Same calm. Like he belongs everywhere and nowhere.
He nods at me but I don’t return it. Instead, I make my way down slowly.
“What do you want tonight?” I ask without looking at him.
“Just you.”
The words freeze me.
I finally meet his eyes. “Don’t say shit like that.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s a lie and I don’t believe it.”
He studies me.
“You used to.”
His words hit my chest like a sledgehammer. “That was before I learned better.”
He sips the drink I didn’t see him order.
“Why do you keep coming here?”
“You already know, Lana.”
“You’re not here to drink. Or dance. Or hook up.”
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because this is where you are.”
I stare at him and I know he’s serious.
He’s always serious. And I don’t know what to do with that.
