Until We Meet Again

41. five minutes

She's much more persuasive than she used to be, she doesn't let a single second pass after the five minute timer I set goes off before trying to convince me to spend the night with her.

"I'm going to have a busy day at work tomorrow," I tell her in protest, even though I know it's not true. It's been a slow month of breaking stories for me and for my coworkers.

I'm not interested in her life anymore. I don't even know if what she's just told me is true. She claims she used the money from the trust fund her parents set up for her before she told them she would never be straight to create a publishing company. She says she wants to help out writers like me, which I find to be complete bullshit. No one would ever work with a startup created by a spoiled brat who has a past of pretending to be poor for sympathy.

I had told her that, and she seemed offended and said, "I couldn't tell you the actual truth about why I moved away, it was too personal."

"I thought we were in love back then? You couldn't trust your girlfriend with that information?"

She had snapped at me with, "I don't like talking about it. To anyone. You always have acted like you're entitled to every single damn piece of information about my life."

"Fine, it's good that I'm no longer interested in being part of your life at all," was my comeback.

Now, she's trying to get me to stay as if those five minutes are forgotten. But I do have one question.

"Why did you come here? Why couldn't you stay in LA?"

"Now Priscilla, the five minutes are over," she tells me all smartly.

"Whatever, I don't care anyway. Bye!"

And that brings her pride back to a normal level, and she immediately tells me, "There's more business here and . . . you're here."

"Have you been stalking me?"

"All it took was one Instagram search. . ." She sheepishly says, trailing off into silence that gives me the moment to question her.

"Didn't I block you?"

"I looked you up through my ex's account," she says like it's obvious. "It's actually what led her to break up with me."

"You didn't break up with her?"

Now I'm curious as to how that went down. I didn't even have to do anything and I wrecked a relationship already. This is exactly why I don't want Delilah around, she ruins everything. She reminds me of the person that I don't want to be.

"I mean. . . Things weren't exactly great anyway. We were never a good match, and I was offended when you never caught on to me lying about everything being amazing when we met up after we broke up. I mean, I was easily able to tell that you were lying about our relationship meaning nothing to you to try to make me jealous about Augustine."

Once again, I hate her.

"I-I- I wasn't lying."

She giggles, and says, "there you are lying again. You should learn to stop twirling your hair so much when you lie."

I realize that my fingers are wrapped around a thick strand of my hair, and I immediately let go. I put my hands in the pockets of my maroon dress and try not to let her be right.

"Then why did you act so hurt after I said all of that?"

"It hurt that you couldn't tell that I was lying and it hurt that you were lying to me. So, I settled for my ex and obviously that ended badly. She told me never to come back to LA or speak to her again."

It must have sucked for her; being told off by someone to leave the place she loves the most. She did deserve it though.

"You settled for three years?"

She simply nods in response, and it scares me. She faked it for so long, I faked it for one day with Rowan and I gave up. How could she do that for so long?

She seems to notice the newfound concern in my eyes, and she gets up from her spot on her black couch to try to comfort me from where I'm standing near the exit of her apartment. "I would never do that to you Priscilla."

"I'm not sure I believe that and I don't like being around you. I don't like all of these emotions and-"

She interrupts me, "So you admit, you still have feelings for me?"

It's a very strong question that brings upon a yes from some part of my brain, there must be some kind of glitch there. I'm tired of this and her and her trouble. I want to be with someone that doesn't bring me drama or complications. I've moved on from her a million times but it's true what those poets say about your first love, some part of you will always love them.

But it doesn't mean it's in a romantic way anymore.

"No."

"Can we test that? If I kiss you right now and you feel nothing, then you can walk away. We can forget this ever happened and move on with our lives. We'll act like we never knew each other. This can just be a trial run."

I know that the kiss will be meaningless, maybe I can just do it since I honestly feel some pity for her. She's acting so desperate, it's sad. I once found her persistence amusing, now it's just annoying.

"These are exactly the kinds of games you love playing."

"It's just a trial run," she repeats to me like saying it enough times will convince me it's true.

I grab my brown purse that's been laying on one of her kitchen stools, and I start walking out. "I don't have time for this."

She sprints ahead of me surprisingly fast, once again, and tries to act as a barrier that prevents me from opening the door. I roll my eyes at her, clearly frustrated as I tell her, "Delilah, you're acting like a child. You're holding onto something that expired 4 years ago. Didn't you always judge me for not moving on from anything? It looks like you need to do some moving on."

She doesn't let me small speech throw her off, she looks into my eyes like she can see into my heart, and says, "aren't you always going to wonder what could have been?"

I look at my nails like they're so fascinating with designs of red hearts, and I respond, "no, not really."

"A kiss just for me? Please?"

"If I kiss you, will you finally shut up?" I ask her seriously.

"That's quite rude to be honest, I-"

I don't even let her finish her sentence. I cup her soft face with my hands and place my lips onto hers, fulfilling her one wish.

And that's all it takes to knock me over with every emotion I've ever felt about her. It sounds like a lie because I wish it was one, but it's everything to me. Everything comes back to me in a second, every stupid fight and every sweet kiss we've ever shared. All the lies and deception and fires that were our relationship.

She pulls away after the quick second, and tells me, "alright, you can go now if you wa-"

I tell her to shut up again, and I pull her in for a deeper kiss.

I can't get enough of this feeling, it's like I'm high.

All the people I've slept with have never come close to the way one silly kiss with her makes me feel. I push her fully against the door that I was about to leave out of, and I decide that I can let myself get trapped in the past for now.

Just for tonight.

5 minutes leads to flirting, and flirting leads to kissing, and kissing leads to us sleeping together. Her familiar signature of faltering breaths and short whispers of my name bring me satisfaction in how easily I can change her. She's no longer so bold as she just begs me to touch her without a single care in the world.

It feels like a lot, it feels like us. All a result of five minutes of talking.