Page 26 of Choke

“I knew he was sticking around town for a couple of days, but I figured, what are the chances we will bump into him again? There are millions of people in this city.”

She listens intently, without interruption.

When I don’t continue, she asks, “But why did he punch that guy?”

“Right, well. I suppose I provoked him a little.” I say, exhaling the breath I was holding deep in my lungs.

“Provoked him how?”

I launch into the whole story of the night, pre-drinking and getting ready with Rosie, fake tits, dancing at the club, the pretty guy with blueeyes who bought me a drink and then groped me in the booth, Adrian showing up with the blonde woman, and then punching his friend in the face.

There are a few moments of silence while she absorbs. The only sound is her radio, which quietly plays Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd.

Eventually, she says, “There’s something wrong with that guy, Lex.”

This statement brings me to attention.

I mean, I agree, but ask, “Why?”

“After the scene at the restaurant, he approached me. He wanted to know your full name and phone number.”

This is all too familiar, lowering my eyes, my eyebrows pushing together.

“Please tell me you did not give him my information.”

She laughs, but it’s free from any sign of humor.

“Of course, I didn’t give him your information. I said if you wanted to talk to him, you would have given it yourself.”

Relief washes over me.

Thank god.

She continues, “He asked me to ask you if you would be open to speaking with him and to let him know.”

“Did he leave you his contact information?” I ask.

“Well, no. We didn’t have a pen, so I gave him my business card and told him to email it. I don’t think he did. So he must not be that keen to talk to you.”

My stomach plummets, blood draining from my face. My eyes widen as I take in what she’s saying. Her expression drops.

“What? Lex, what’s wrong?”

My breathing picks up again, and my heart rate speeds up. I might hyperventilate. This might be a panic attack.

I might be dying.

My obituary will read:RIP Alexandria Donnelly. She fucked around and found out.My pulse slams in my ears, drowning out the sound of the radio. The room tilts and the air seems too thin. I grip the chair, and my fingers start to tingle. I take deep breaths, trying tosteady this sensation spreading through my belly. Kendall shoots to her feet, clearly unsure what to do.

Breathe, Lex.

I squeeze my eyes shut, my head spins, and I might vomit.

He knows my name.

He knows my job.

He knows where to find me.

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