When you asked me to be there with you that weekend at your family’s place because your ex would be there too, I thought it would be a simple part to play.

Once you got in the car, you went over it one more time. You wanted him to see how good you were. You wanted there to be no doubt that life was easy for you without him. No room for him to think you missed him, or that there was anything left between you that could be undone. All I had to do was stay relaxed, confident, comfortable beside you. The rest, you said, would take care of itself.

I thought I understood.

Then we got there, and you saw him.

After that, everything moved faster. You took my arm in a way that was meant to be seen from across the yard. You stayed close, looked up at me, laughed like I was the only thing holding your attention all day. Then came the bigger gestures. Your arms around my neck. Your whole body against mine. At one point, you turned to me, put both hands on my face, and kissed me. Long. Intense. So obviously meant to be noticed that it took me half a second to catch up and kiss you back the way the moment required.

That surprised me.

Not because it was bad. Because until then, I still thought I was just there as your escort, and suddenly we looked like two people who could barely keep their hands off each other.

And once that happened, everything kept going more easily.

You sat in my lap on the terrace. You talked to other people while your fingers played with my collar, sometimes traced my jaw, like your body had found its place on me without asking permission. My hand stayed at your waist, and every now and then you turned toward me in a way that ended in another kiss, or a hug that lasted too long to pass for anything polite.

By then the whole performance had come alive.

I knew it for sure when we finally ended up alone in the hallway by the bathroom and neither of us mentioned your ex. You caught the front of my jacket, pulled me closer, and quietly said we might have overdone it a little.

Then you kissed me again.

Part of the act was sleeping in the same bed. So we lay down and turned our backs to each other.

Sleep never came.

We both turned at the same time and met in the middle. Close enough for the whole day to rush back between us, only sharper now, more dangerous. That surprised me too. What surprised me even more was how quickly something real filled the space between us where there had only been a role before.

By then, the performance was no longer for an audience…