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her hands. They dance like they’re at a fucking wedding and not a club, at all. His cheek lights against hers and he shout-whispers something into her ear and she tips her head back, laughing, her long throat exposed. I feel sick and stupid, because, despite her tacky attire and her gaggle of loud friends whooping behind her, they look really…beautiful together and I’m swamped with this guilt, like, what if I’m keeping Rylan from something he wants or should have or would have if it wasn’t for me? What if I’m an obligation for bringing him home to my family, or just a handy thing to have around until he finds someone like this girl? And it’s not like I’m actually worried something’s going to happen, like, she’s getting married and this is just a bachelorette party and it’s just a club and it’s just been going on for a few songs and I’m supposed to be hanging out with Shona, anyway, but I can’t help the tight, bitter nerves that coil in my guts.
    Shona’s watching them, I mean, we don’t stop dancing, but she’s watching them and then watching me. I try to smile at her like I’m having fun and she looks like she feels kinda bad for me, but she’s also still looking around, hoping to make eye contact with someone who she can take home. I’m kind of pissed about it, even though Shona is nothing if not upfront about what she wants, and it’s not like I didn’t know what tonight was about. Finally, after another couple of songs, Rylan starts to make his way back over to me. I’m embarrassingly relieved. He grins at me, and then I notice the bride’s behind him, and he’s holding their hands to the small of his back so they don’t get separated as they keep fucking walking over to the bar where he buys her a fucking drink, and then some new guy encroaches on Shona, and she gives me the thumbs up saying that she’s happy with him, and I’m good to go, but Jesus fuck , I don’t have anyone to go home with , seeing as I’ve been ditched for someone who’s about to get fucking married, areyouabsolutelyfucking kidding me!
    I watch Rylan and his fucking wife down two shots of tequila, drop their limes into their shot glasses, and make their way back to the dance floor, where Rylan fucking spins her and dips her and they laugh. I walk right up behind her. He’s got his hand dangerously close to her ass, and it takes him a couple of seconds before he sees me, but when he does, he just smiles. I glare at him impatiently and he looks sort of confused. I seriously want to get out of here, doesn’t he get that? And I feel like I should be entitled to going home with my boyfriend, but instead I just feel like I’m having a fucking temper tantrum or something, because I just fucking stalk out of there and leave. And I’m acting irrationally, which makes me feel embarrassed and ashamed and humiliated, and that just makes me more frustrated, so I just fucking get into one of the waiting taxis and give the cabby my address. As the driver pulls a U-turn in front of the club, I can’t help but look for Rylan, like maybe he’s wondering where I got to. But I don’t see him because he’s a selfish bastard and I’m a pathetic idiot.

- 4 -
    It’s barely past midnight by the time I get home and I’m too fucking mad to do anything. The worst part is that I don’t know if I’m even justified in being mad. Like, it’s not like we’ve ever established that we’re not allowed to do whatever the fuck we want with other people. Who knows, maybe he goes to the club and hooks up with randoms all the time? I throw myself dramatically onto my bed, wishing I could phone Shona but I can’t even do that because she’s probably making out with the guy on the dance floor by this point and I feel like such a useless idiot. Why haven’t I just asked him?
    Seriously. All I needed to do to avoid this was ask him what was between us, let him put me out of my misery. But I didn’t. Because what if he’d