“youstillwantsomechampagne?”

“allright.”

ipulledhercloseandshecriedagainstmyshoulder.shewasn’tinlovewithmeandwebothknewit.shewasn’tcryingoverme.itwasjusttimeforhertoshedafewtears.

thenshepulledawayandigotoutofbedandshewentintothebathroomtofixherface.igotthechampagne.whenshecamebackshewassmiling.

“i’msorryiblubbered,”shesaid.“insixmonthsfromnowiwon’tevenrememberyourname.bringitintothelivingroom.iwanttoseelights.”

ididwhatshesaid.shesatonthedavenportasbefore.iputthechampagneinfrontofher.shelookedattheglassbutdidn’ttouchit.

“i’llintroducemyself,”isaid.“we’llhaveadrinktogether.”

“liketonight?”

“itwon’teverbeliketonightagain.”

sheraisedherglassofchampagne,drankalittleofitslowly,turnedherbodyonthedavenport,andthrewtherestinmyface.thenshebegantocryagain.igotahandkerchiefoutandwipedmyfaceoffandwipedhersforher.

“idon’tknowwhyididthat,”shesaid.“butforgod’ssakedon’tsayi’mawomanandawomanneverknowswhyshedoesanything.”

ipouredsomemorechampagneintoherglassandlaughedather.shedrankitslowlyandthenturnedtheotherwayandfellacrossmyknees..

“i’mtired,”shesaid.“you’llhavetocarrymethistime.”

afterawhileshewenttosleep.

inthemorningshewasstillasleepwhenigotupandmadecoffee.ishoweredandshavedanddressed.shewokeupthen.wehadbreakfasttogether.icalledacabandcarriedherovernightcasedownthesteps.

wesaidgoodbye.iwatchedthecaboutofsight.iwentbackupthestepsandintothebedroomandpulledthebedtopiecesandremadeit.therewasalongdarkhairononeofthepillows.therewasalumpofleadatthepitofmystomach.

thefrenchhaveaphraseforit.thebastardshaveaphraseforeverythingandtheyarealwaysright.

tosaygoodbyeistodiealittle.