Page 3 of The Bridges I've Burned

My eyes tracked the movement as I listened to the deep cadence of his voice. The tone.

The déjà vu hit hard once more.

I’d heard him say that before.

“I teach art history downtown,” he went on.

It was like unraveling a word caught on the tip of my tongue. One minute, it was hidden behind a steel plate door, and the next?—

He’d been younger the last time we met, but then again, so had I.

My date to a friend’s wedding had bailed on me at the last second, so I ended up going solo. Seated next to me was John, the professor. He was a colleague of the groom and fairly new to the area. The city intimidated him, so I offered a few recommendations.

We talked and danced. He told me about his classes and his love of ancient art. I complained about my intense new job and how I never had time to do anything. I couldn’t even remember the last movie I had seen.

We had been drinking, and then he’d invited me over to his place…

I looked up at him. A comfortable smile spread across his face as he talked about the university and art department politics without a hint of recollection.

Oh my God. I’d slept with this guy.

I’d slept with him, and…

He doesn’t fucking remember?

I realized then that he’d stopped talking. Shit, had he said something?

“What?”

“I asked if you’d seen any good movies lately.”

My eyes flashed up to his. Was he serious?

But nope. There was nothing there.

“Um, no,” I managed to get out before my phone began to buzz in my purse.

About damn time.

“I’m sorry,” I explained, pulling out my phone. “I have to take this. It’s my best friend and?—”

He waved his palms, giving me a pass.

I quickly answered. “Hey, what’s up?”

“Elena!” Marin’s panicked voice replied. “I need help.”

My eyes widened as I looked up at my date.

Is everything okay? he mouthed, concern marring his handsome features.

Don’t be nice to me right now.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, shrugging my shoulders in response to John’s question.

“Macon and I had a fight.” Her sobs were so loud that even John leaned back, trying to get away from the shrill sound coming from my speaker.

“Oh, Marin,” I answered, consoling her. I looked up, and our eyes met.

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