“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“I need to talk to you. Can I please come in?”
“I don’t want to see you.”
“Please, Hope? Just for five minutes.”
Maybe confronting him is what I need. Yelling at him actually sounds energizing.
“Fine,” I say. I buzz him in.
He appears at my door. He has his suitcase.
“Why do you have luggage?” I ask.
“I came straight from the airport. Took the earliest flight. I heard what happened to you. I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”
“I’m fine,” I say curtly. “Go home.”
He looks confused. “Are you angry with me or something?”
“I know what you did,” I say acidly.
He looks taken aback. “What I did?”
“Yes.”
“What did I do?”
“You sent Felix Lauren’s video. To make me look bad.”
His face goes slack.
Guilty.
“Fuck,” he finally says. “How did you know?”
“Process of elimination.”
He leans back wearily against the wall. “Okay. Yeah. I did send it.”
“What iswrongwith you? You realize that is batshit behavior, right?”
He slumps down onto the floor.
“What are you doing? Get up.”
“Hope, I was desperate,” he says. “I went all the way to the Caribbean to see you, just to find you, like,besottedwith some other guy. I needed a chance.”
This doesn’t compute.
“What do you mean you went there to see me? I thought you were there for Maeve’s birthday.”
“Well, that’s what I told her. But I knew you were going because Lauren posted about it. I thought if I came along, it would be a good way to reconnect. You know, two people trapped on a boat. Lots of time to talk. To rekindle something.”
My veins are like icicles, sharp and freezing. I feel dangerous.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” I ask.
