Go with Alice

You nod once.

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

Alice doesn’t make a production of it. She simply turns and starts walking, trusting you to fall in beside her. Behind you Tanya stays where she is on the pavement. She doesn’t call after you again. The distance between you and the conversation she wanted grows with every step.

The place two streets over is exactly as quiet as Alice promised. A small hole in the wall corner bar with dark wood and low lighting, mostly empty in the early afternoon. She chooses a booth near the back and orders two drinks without asking what you want, the same easy confidence she’s always had. When the glasses arrive she pushes one across to you and sits back.

“All right,” she says, voice level. “You looked like the ground had just opened up under you. I’m not going to pretend I didn’t notice the tension with you and your lady friend. But we don’t have to start there if you don’t want to. We can just sit. Drink. Catch up properly for the first time in years. Your call.”

She waits, blonde hair catching the low light, the stunning shape of her still impossible to ignore even under the academic layers, and gives you the space to decide how much of the wreckage you feel like putting on the table.