Forget Me Not

by Julie Soto

Lo?” The single syllable sets my skin on fire. I hate him for never enunciating. I hate him for not having a standard “Blooming, how can I help you?” I hate him for picking up at all.

I wonder if she’ll look up The Language of Flowers and figure out I just told her, You are immature and I resent you. Go away.

Now someone is coming at Elliot with a powder brush, claiming he’s “shiny.” “Get the fuck away from me,” he says, as politely as he possibly can.

You may think everything ends one day, but you haven’t had ‘everything’ with me.”

I coach Elliot to tell her “You’re getting married today.” He repeats after me. “That’s what’s going on. And smile at her.” “That’s what’s going on,” he repeats. “And smil—” “Not her! You smile!” “And smiling…will be had by all,” he finishes lamely.

When his lashes flutter open, I say, “Will you marry me?” He shakes his head. Or mumbles a no. Or turns over and tells me to fuck off. And I say, “When then?” “Maybe tomorrow,” he always says.