Last three sentences
rules: in a new post, show the last three lines you wrote (or drew) and tag as many people as you feel like.
tagged by @kilnhouse and @heroes-fading
You’re in no position to be anyone’s boyfriend, his therapist had crackled into his ear as the car groaned over a third speed bump, and that had suited Anthony just fine, he was easily sustained on the grease of a mercenary weeknight fuck and two deals closed per quarter.
And yet six months later and he’s crumpling on Kate’s doorstep, hair catching in his eyes in wet splinters, tears spearing his lashes, begging her to end it because he can’t, and somehow don’t marry him because I love you becomes Anthony kissing her hard, pulling back with his mouth a dark bruise and in one breath he murmurs, just one last time.
Suddenly it hardly matters that in his head they met first and that day in the park maybe Kate dropped a dog lead instead of a veil, that when he pressed it safely back in her hand his thumb swept over a ringless finger, that the night in the bar she still threw her drink in his face but it becomes a treasured anecdote a beaming Anthony tells at their wedding, it hardly matters because Kate nods and agrees, her fingernails already raking his skin into ribbons at the back of his neck, one last time, when she’s meant to say something else.