NOAH
Lila was standing in the middle of the pasta aisle, looking like she had just stepped out of a fashion magazine.
She had a small basket in her hand with only two items in it. She looked exactly the way I remembered her: perfectly put together, every hair in place, every detail of her outfit chosen with a purpose.
When I looked up and saw her, I didn't feel what I thought I would. I expected to feel nothing, or maybe a sharp pang of the old sadness.
Instead, it was more complicated. It wasn't longing, and it definitely wasn't love. It was the strange, heavy feeling of seeing the person who once handed you back to yourself in pieces.
My body seemed to remember the hurt before my brain could even process that she was standing there.
The memories came rushing back In a blur. The birthday dinner that was ruined. The sound of her voice on Nicholas's phone. The way be had boasted about sleeping with her behind my back multiple times.
