I watch as you walk into our friends summer home; my hand clenches around my knee. I hate you. I hate seeing you. But god..you’ve always been beautiful and my hatred can’t change that.

I get off of the kitchen stool, adjusting my shirt. I have to stay calm, pretend I love you. Our friends are convinced we’re still together so we have to keep this facade up until spring break is over, 2 weeks from now.

“Hello, sweet thing.” I say, barely masking my annoyance to see you.