Page 126 of The Last Good Man

He’s probably done it all this time, and now he needshermore than ever.

He has an erectile problem, and she knows how to handle this type of situation.

He won’t see me again.

His brain will always associate me with a flaccid penis.

Why do I even have to think about this?

“Good for him,” I say.

“Seriously?”

“We didn’t click anyway.”

She doesn’t comment.

“Oh, by the way. And this has nothing to do with Thomas. I received Melissa’s card. The meeting is on March 14th. It falls on a Friday.”

She couldn’t be more ecstatic.

“Woohoo. I can’t wait.”

I smile.

“You’re going, right?” she says.

“I don’t know.”

“You’re not serious now.”

“It’s no longer the babes’ club. Now you’re all married.”

“No, we’re not. And it’s not about that.”

Oh, yes, it is. Our meetings have gone from the girls' nights out to the quiet conversations about money, real estate, and schools.

“Please don’t do this to us.”

Even she uses the term ‘us' as in ‘them… and me.’

“I won’t. I’ll be there,” I say, struggling to conceal my resentment.

MELODY

Thursday Morning

Spring is here, clouds of petals swirling in the air under a bright sun.

I'm out jogging with my long hair pulled into a bouncy ponytail, dark sunglasses on, and white and gray athletic gear molded on my body.

Sweat covers my skin while my pulse matches the rhythmic tapping of my shoes against the sidewalk.

I careen onto my street, scanning the area.

It’s been three days since I started paying more attention to my surroundings, hoping to see his car.

The good thing is that I no longer check my phone.

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