Jerome sat across from her at the table in the small bistro. It had been months since he’d felt this happy.
He should have known that it couldn’t last.
Perhaps it was that undeniably fake smile flashing across her face. Or maybe, it was the way she didn’t look at him, but rather past him.
Whatever it was, he knew.
Here comes the stiletto. Jerome looked at her miserably.
“Jerry, I won’t see you anymore. It’s time you knew the truth. No, you don’t want the truth; let’s leave it at ‘goodbye’.” She stood up and took her coat from the back of the wrought iron chair. And, with an uncaring toss of her hair, she was gone. Again.
“Dammit!” Scape yelled, as soon a he saw Jerome’s anguished face. “Didn’t I tell you?”
“You think I like the way she treats me?” Jerome whispered.
“No, I think you’re addicted to her! You just stand there and let her search for the vein! That’s it. I’m done!” He shoved past his best friend and made for the door. He forgave that woman for doing this to Jerry, but not Jerry. No.