She gave me the look.
He and I had agreed: boundaries. Nothing artificial. We don't make her get up if there is no appointment to be kept. We don't tell her to turn off her cell phone or get off the computer just because it's annoying.
But we had agreed, he and I, that my seat at the table was my seat at the table. She is the new one, the one who is benefiting from what we have to offer. We have made room for her; we don't have to give her our space.
She sat in my seat.
He was supposed to say something; but he had stepped out. So I said something; I smiled and I teased, but I claimed my space.
She gave me the look: naked and raw, disdain and perhaps a flash of anger and hatred.
She gave me the look.
And she moved.
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