aranoid reflex she had trained into me ov

. My mother saw you g

iane. I shou

was, what I was doing. The immed

bothering to put much thoug

e was insta

ce was breathtaking. She couldn' t conceive

re still my boyfriend. Don' t

suited her. Her possessiveness, her casual disregard for the truth-it was all so familiar

ransition, I was still attending major functions. Standing near the entrance, my eyes

rashing wave. My design. I had sketched it for her years ago, on a napkin in a cheap din

e spot. The car was a ghost fro

suddenly beside me. She had appeare

, her voice full of grand generosi

upposed to have, as if nothing had happened. As

ious to the turmoil inside me. "Maybe change

apkin, the diner, the meaning behind the wave

u," I said, m

ng smile. I watched her eyes light up as he approached. He was

same look she' d given a do

the engine specifications, the aerodynamic design. She was faking an

een, and she looked at me with that same adoration. Her love had felt so real then, so all-en

one for her. I had believed her. I had gone to a bar, gotten drunk, and convinced myself that what we had was worth fighting for. My

e had turned back to me, her moment with the design

ith. I saw a stranger, her eyes filled with an irritation she didn' t bother to

voice cold and professional. The

er tone clipped. She tossed her coat

er turn away, her attention already shifting back to the desi

to pack the last of my personal files.

as a critical board meeti

t rang several times

oice was thick w

eting starts in

heard another voice in the

ge, the designer from the night befor

ld went