Marc
I was standing by the window with a cup of black coffee when I saw her.
Helen.
Down on the sidewalk in front of the building, arms wrapped tightly around some man. She was smiling—really smiling—the kind of bright, unguarded expression I had never seen directed at me. She even bounced a little on her toes, clearly excited. The guy hugged her back, lifted her slightly off the ground, and she laughed.
I frowned.
Who the f**k was he?
I stayed at the glass longer than I should have, watching them. He wasn’t particularly impressive—average height, average build, nothing that should have drawn that kind of reaction from her. Yet there she was, looking happier than she had any right to look after the way I’d left her on Saturday.
Eventually I forced myself away from the window and sat
