Suppose

I heard her loud and clear. “It’s been nice,” I said, and walked off.

“Where are you going?” A hand took hold of my arm, and I wrested away. She touched her spurned hand with the other, and shrank away. “Why won’t you stay?”

Before the love of my dreams, I was useless. “You think I believe your lies? I know we shared a dance. I know that seven years ago, I fell in love.” I said too much, and was ashamed. “You remember me, but wish you didn’t.”