—Cole— We’ve never actually fought before. Not once. Not even when we were kids. And I wish I could take tonight back so as to keep that track record unblemished. I know I can’t though. And wishing it doesn’t make me feel any less infantile or unforgivably churlish to snap at her the way I had. I open my mouth to attempt some form of apology, feeling though that an apology won’t cut it now, as it’s years past the time of when anything like damage control could’ve had any hope whatsoever at being effective. Then Erica moves and I hold my breath as she bends down and picks up a chunk of broken crystal. I watch her, almost transfixed, as she casually inspects it in the firelight, turning it this way and that so it glints and sparkles like a real-life star in her hand. “No. The only thing I was drunk on at the time was you. Even so, I was fully aware. Like I never have been before or since. I didn’t understand that I was feeling your love for me but I used how you made me feel as inspiration one night a week or so later…the night we trusted each other more than any soul dead or alive.
