“Keenan wants to see you,” Darius said.

My hand tightened around the glass, at the same time it began to

shake. Adding my other hand into the mix, I gripped it until the shaking

lessened. “You’re not serious.”

Staring at where some of the water had sloshed out onto my hand,

I tried to ignore the rising panic.

“He’s found out the truth,” Darius explained.

My eyes rose to meet is all-too-serious ones. “How?” The word

left my numb lips barely above a whisper.

His head dropped to look down at his shoes, but I could still

see his hesitant expression from where I sat several yards away. He rubbed a

hand through his thick hair. “He asked me to leave any explanations to him.”

My dread morphed into irritation. “That sounds like him. Always

needing to have the final word.”

The strain left his features at my comment. “So, what do you

want me to tell him?”

I stood, setting my glass down on the coffee table. The view of

Manhattan outside became larger as I walked to the large penthouse windows. I

stared down below at the tiny people walking on sidewalks and the toy cars

moving down the street. Inside here, it seemed as if everything had come to a

standstill.

It was impossible to pinpoint any one feeling about the

possibility of seeing Keenan again. A combination of anxiety, sadness and

defiance mingled with something I refused to identify as anticipation.

I imagined an awkward conversation between Keenan and myself.

Rehashing our history wasn’t an event I’d enjoy. So he finally knew the truth

and in his arrogance had decided it was time for closure. 

He’d always made all the decisions.

Well, this time I’d be the one deciding the outcome. Seeing

Keenan would benefit me in no way. It had taken time, but I’d moved on from the

heartbreak of our disastrous ending. All evidence proved Keenan had also moved

on. Any conversation between us would come too late.

Not turning from the view, I told Darius, “Tell him it was

another lifetime.”