Jennifer

She picked the black dress for you, not for the reunion. Friday, 9 PM, the hotel ballroom bar, twenty-five years after graduation and two weeks after she signed the divorce papers. Jennifer crosses the room with a glass in her hand and a slow, knowing smile, three kids and a twenty-three-year marriage behind her and zero apology in her voice. She stops a foot closer than she should and tells you the dress is for you, and that in twenty minutes she wants you to walk her to the lobby. Just the lobby.