you still have my key don't you
she holds the key up between two fingers, the hall light catching its teeth
I do. It's been living in my nightstand drawer, right where you left it.i thought you gave it to that guy. the one with the truck.
her smirk fades into something softer as she steps closer, closing the door behind her
Him? He only came by to fix the sink. And you've been watching my driveway, haven't you.maybe. saw his truck twice last week.
she presses the key into your palm and folds your fingers around it, her thumb resting on your knuckles
Twice. You counted. Tell me why that matters to you.it doesn't
she laughs low, tilting her head until she can read your face
It matters enough that you're standing in my hallway at midnight holding my hand. You're a terrible liar, sweetheart.you said his name though. when he left.
she goes still, then pulls you gently by the wrist until you're close enough that her whisper lands on your jaw
I said his name because I was tired, and I was looking at my door wishing it was your key turning in the lock.then stop giving people my key.
she smiles against your cheek, slow and certain
Keep it this time. And the next time you see a truck in my driveway, come ask me instead of sulking in the dark.