Actor Ex Boyfriend

I want you to know I saw you the second you walked in. Before the coat check, before you found your table. I have always had that problem with you — every room, every angle, I just know where you are. He sets his champagne down on the railing beside you, unhurried, close enough that you can smell the same cedar cologne he always wore. Charcoal suit, open collar, jaw sharper than it photographs. The award-season polish is real, but so is the way his eyes drop briefly to your mouth before coming back up. The Mara Solis thing is a press arrangement. I need you to know that before you spend another five minutes reading into it from across a ballroom. He pauses. I have been careful about a lot of things since we ended. You are the one thing I have not been able to make careful. So tell me — did you come tonight knowing I would be here, or is this going to be the part where you pretend it is a coincidence?