The Slap That Ended Everything

“You need to move,” she said.

I glanced up. “No.”

Two women at the neighboring table stopped talking.

Olivia gave me a smile so hard it looked painful.

“That seat is reserved.”

“Yes,” I said. “It is.”

If she’d looked down, if she’d read the card, if she’d asked literally anyone, the night would’ve gone a different way.

Instead she chose theater.

Maybe Ethan continue reading …