Overruled

by Lana Ferguson

It’s as if I can take solace in her complete lack of expectations of me, which is a foreign concept to me. All I’ve ever known are expectations.

“I walked away from that woman whose face I can’t even remember because from the second I saw you, for every fucking moment since—there hasn’t been anyone in my head but you.” He laughs again. “You might as well live there now.”

“You’re in my head, and I don’t know how to get you out. I don’t even think I want to.”

She clutches her glass in both hands, her fingers flexing against it almost like she’s combating an urge to reach out and touch me. I sort of wish she would. Maybe it would make me feel less unsettled.