One week! Private Politics will be out in one week. And here’s your final teaser. Alyse is having a bad day, so she goes to the movies by herself and watches all the couples sitting around her. There is one NSFW word at the end.
At the engagement party the previous week, Alyse had felt pangs of jealousy but that was because no one could see two people as obviously right together as Millie and Parker and not feel something. At some point in the past six months she’d decided that she wanted full-fat only, please—a first and likely last vote for that.
So she’d stopped calling Quentin back and within days, he’d stopped calling. They hadn’t broken up. There hadn’t been a sting. They’d simply stopped seeing each other.
Once she realized that, she’d made a new declaration: the next time she broke up with a man, she wanted to damn well know it. The next time, whenever it was, she wanted the whole thing, including of course the terse exchanges, but also the sympathy, the love and the toe-curling goodness, the I-can’t-keep-my-hands-to-myself desire and the unshakeable companionship.
As the lights dimmed and the previews finally started, another couple slid in two rows ahead of her. Four seconds of observation and she knew they were at the honeymoon-y, early stage of their relationship. They were so solicitous there was simply no explaining it otherwise.
They’d both started talking and then giggled. Then they struggled cutely over the armrest, not yet knowing the other’s preferences and personal space requirements. There had been some sort of exchange about where to put drinks and popcorn punctuated by titters. Were things really that funny in the early fluttery stages of a relationship?
Since they weren’t touching, but clearly wanted to, it might even be a first date. The girl was pretty in that sweet, short way: curly brown hair, ugly coat. He turned, showing his profile and was…Liam Nussbaum. On a date. Not ten feet from her.
Seriously, karma was such a bitch.
Poor Alyse. The road to self-knowledge is painful.