Page 11 of Ruthless Serenade

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the inevitable fallout.

"Eva," I begin, my voice steady and calm, "this is our goodbye dinner. It’s over between us."

There.

It’s out.

I could have been more subtle about it, but it’s all I can manage right now.

Eva’s eyes widen, shock and disbelief written into every line of her face. "What? No, Maron, you can’t mean that. We… we might have our differences, but… we belong together."

I shake my head. "No, Eva. We don’t. It’s over."

"But…" Tears well up in her eyes, her lower lip trembling. "Who is she, Maron?"

Who is she?

The woman sitting over at that table, that’s who!

My insides churn. "Just you and me, Eva. No one else," I say through gritted teeth.

Her voice rises to a shrill pitch. "Is it your ex-girlfriend? That Mindy person?"

Blyad!

I nervously glance toward Mindy’s table, but it’s empty now.

Where the fuck has she gone?

"Eva, keep it down," I say, trying to keep my voice even. “This is a restaurant."

"Don’t you shush me, Maron," she hisses under her breath. The woman in the next booth peeks her head out, casting a look of disgust our way. I fix her with a stare that is enough to make her pull back behind the wall that separates her booth from ours.

Tears stream down Eva’s face, smudging the carefully applied makeup she put on just minutes ago. "Is this really what you want, Maron?" Her voice cracks with emotion.

I nod, my jaw clenched tight. "Yes," I say firmly, looking into her eyes.

Eva’s voice trembles with anger and hurt. "You’re despicable, Maron. A heartless, soulless…" She pauses, looking for words. "A fucking idiot, that’s what you are. You’re going to die alone!"

She stands up abruptly and rushes back toward the restroom, her sobs echoing through the restaurant. I lean back in my chair, feeling a rush of relief course through me. The curious glances from other diners don’t phase me as I watch Eva leave.

As soon as she’s out of sight, I glance over to Mindy’s still-empty seat before turning my attention to the man sitting across her table. He sits too far for me to register his features, but I already hate the motherfucker. But then again, what the fuck did I expect? It’s been seven years, of course, Mindy would date another guy.

Chert voz’mi!

These thoughts are not helping. I should go home, drink a bottle of vodka and get my fucking head straight. The main achievement for tonight is that Eva is finally out of my hair. My mind briefly registers a twinge of guilt over her, but it quickly dissipates.

It’s finally over.

After several long minutes, Eva appears from the restroom. Her face is blotchy and her eyes are puffy from crying. She returns to our table without making eye contact with me, sliding back into her seat, and immediately digging through her purse.

"I’ve called a taxi for you," I tell her matter-of-factly. "It should be here in a few minutes."

She looks at me. Her face is a mess, with black smears of eyeliner smudging down her cheeks. “You’ll regret this, Maron. Mark my words."

I don’t respond. I silently watch as she grabs her purse and exits the restaurant. As the door closes behind her, I feel a weight lift off my shoulders.

Sweet fucking relief.

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