“Are you coming inside or not?” I asked.
He looked at the brass entrance, then back at me, his face hardening into the expression he used when the monthly bills were higher than he liked.
“I told you my terms,” he said, reaching into his pocket for his keys and letting them jingle in his palm. “You want to make a spectacle of yourself, you do it alone.”
He climbed back into the driver’s seat and slammed the door with a heavy thud that rattled the passenger window.
I stood on the cold pavement, the wind whipping the green silk around my knees. The headlights of our car flickered on, cutting through the autumn dusk and bathing my legs in yellow light.
He shifted the car into reverse, the reverse lights casting a stark white glow onto the brick wall behind the parking spaces. The tires crunched slowly on the gravel as he backed out of the slot.
