Absinthe

"It is you," JM said, his curls still exactly the way I remembered them. He started approaching me. Although I didn't see him snag a paper towel, he had one in his hand, and he used it to wipe water droplets off my chin. Then, he moved close enough to sniff my neck.

"Excuse me," I said, pushing past him.

But JM was as fast as I remembered him to be. With one swift motion, he pulled me back by the wrist. Our builds were pretty similar so he shouldn't have been stronger than me, but he was, and I was stuck.

Stuck with a bitter memory of my past.

"What's the rush?" he said. I wanted to rip the smile off his face. It looked as genuine and sincere as it did back when I had been captivated by it, and it was about to capture me again. I hated it.

"I'm with friends," I told him. "I'm supposed to meet them at—"

"That crazy bitch who totaled my car?"

"Don't call her that!"

"Why not? She is a crazy bitch."

I struggled to get his hand off of me, and thankfully, he let go. I walked as fast as I could toward the exit, but I sensed him walking behind me.

"I tried to get back to you," JM said as we neared Starbucks. "But Faye got me a restraining order. I know I lied about my mom. But I was able to raise the money, and now I can pay you back."

I tried my best to block out the words coming out of his mouth by thinking of other things I could focus on. However, my thoughts kept returning to the letter JM had written me. Why had I not thrown it away? I'd been with him for less than a month, and for the love of God, I hadn't the slightest idea why I had fallen so hard. Though perhaps it's more appropriate to say I had crashed and burned, and I was still burning.

"I meant every single thing I said to you," JM continued.

And just like that, I found myself reminiscing on the things we had done together, like some pathetic schoolgirl who can't get over her first crush.

"Look at me, BJ." JM's voice sounded like he was about to break down and cry. I knew that he was employing his above-average acting skills, and yet it took all my willpower to pretend like what I was hearing was white noise, idle chatter from everyone else whose stories I would never care to listen to.

were on mine. He tugged at them until we were face-to-face.

you felt about me if we

have a wife and

the bastard's face. Did he really think I hadn't

half a million. Can

can take care of the baby together. I'll provide for you. We'll be a

make a mess of things since last night

that people around us stopped and started giggling

"Are you hearing yourself?"

"I'm serious."

JM. Give me back my money, and I'll call it quits. I'll reserve some ounce of respect for you. It was a courageous thing to do, after all. And you did

"You don't believe me?"

I was so eager about being in love that I disregarded all of them. C'mon, JM. If you can't repay me,

red, his lips trembling in

fists, as if ready to strike. "You yourself weren't so decent when you were sucking my dick. Or when you were bent over while I was

from him, especially since a small crowd had gathered around us. It was proof yet again that what he and

said I would meet Nico and the others. But

huh? Then give me back my cum! You were so eager when you swallowed it. Give that back and I'll slap you hard on the face with cold, hard cash, dirty

all the people who could hear JM talk shit about me. My anger dissipated and turned into shame.

JM and I had gone through, our dates at the mall, the way he had stolen kisses from me in the movie theater, and how he would stare at me until I almost melted in giddiness, delighted at the absurd amount of attention he was pouring

mocked. "I'm the best fuck you'll ever be able to afford. You can go waste your money on callboys but I'm the best one

at least my eyes did. I didn't feel the tears coming out—I only became aware of

badly wanted to walk away, but I was afraid that a single step would land me and my

say anything?" JM goaded.

before I knew it, I was clutching someone's shirt and a familiar set of arms was holding me and leading me away. I sobbed harder, control over my body a foreign concept. My grip on the shirt tightened, and I buried my face in the person's chest. They stroked the back of my head as well as