Symptoms of Denial

He was gone on Sunday morning when I reached the buffet.

“What a great guy,” said Brooke. “He flew all that way for one hour at a party.”

I thought of him watching my face as he fucked me, his eyes hazy, his jaw clenching as he got close.

“Well, it’s not like he was saving orphans from a burning building,” I replied in a bid to seem indifferent.

I skipped the post-brunch activities, claiming I had