"I told her to get out the second she walked in."
"But she didn't leave right away. She stayed. She talked to you."
"For maybe two minutes. Then I told her to get out or I'd call security."
"Two minutes too long."
I reached for her hand. She pulled back.
"Mira. Come here."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm mad."
"At me?"
"At her. At the situation. At the fact that she thinks she can just waltz in here and act like you two have some kind of history worth revisiting."
"We don't."
"She seems to think you do."
"I don't care what she thinks. It's over. Has been for years."
Mira crossed her arms again. "She brought you food. Like she knows what you like. Like she still knows you."
"So what? That doesn't mean anything."
"It means she remembers. It means she's been thinking about you."
