"You don't own me," she states calmly as I grab her wrist to get her to stop. I know that she's angry but I'm not sure what I've done. She says avoiding looking directly at me, "you shouldn't try to buy people, it never works out the way that you want." I'm confused. We talked about the race. I thought she'd be pleased. I thought she'd want to see me again after all this time. I didn't pay for the tickets. It didn't cost me anything. I just wanted to see her again and now staring at her face I'm not sure why that is. I thought we'd be laughing by now like old friends but that's clearly not how this reunion is going to end. "You've gotten what you wanted. You've seen enough," she says slipping from my grasp. I can see the link between us slipping away. I'm staring at a wall that I don't know how to climb. How did we get here? I beg suddenly hurt, "Please, come inside and have a drink with me. It's been months and I've missed you."
She closes her eyes and I know that whatever she's prepared to say is going to hurt and a lot. "I can't do that. The less we see each other in public the best it's going to be for all of us."
"Is there someone else now?" I ask, suddenly furious with myself for taking this long to find her.
She laughs bitterly, "You could say that. Yes, you would say that."
"Who is he?" I demand.
Her eyes flash a cold steel that I don't think I can see again. "Go back to your life. You've got friends and it's time you dealt with them. I've had enough. I had it explained to me very clearly and perhaps you need the same sit down I got."
"What do you mean?," I laugh uncomfortable to what sounds like an accusation. Has someone done something to make her feel like this with me? What could it possibly be? And why won't she just tell me?
"I signed the damn NDA and you don't owe me anything. I didn't know it would go like this. But you standing here—clueless about why I left and with tickets for a race in eight months...it's time you left." She says with determination and a strange sort of focus, "Go home. You're not needed here."
Angry I accuse, "Just say it! What have I done?"
She shakes her head and pulls at a sleeve on her sweatshirt. "Nothing," she declares with mock gaiety. "Now run along, shoo!" She waves me away with both her wrists, like a nuisance to be dismissed.
