To my surprise, instead of getting upset, he just smiled. Like he was thrilled. Like the small pain of her teeth on his lip was a gift.
Then he walked around to the driver's side and got into the car.
The engine turned over. The headlights swept across the wet lot. And as the car began to pull away, Cara rolled down the passenger window. Rain spattered against the glass. Through the opening, her eyes found mine across the dark, wet distance.
She had known I was there.
She had known, and she had kissed him anyway.
Cara Valente held my gaze, and her lips curved into a smug, taunting look, and she said, loud enough to carry over the rain:
"Olivia, you've lost."
The car rolled forward. The window stayed down for another beat, long enough for her to see my face, long enough for her to collect whatever satisfaction she'd come for. Then the glass slid up, and the black sedan turned toward the parking lot exit.
I stood in the rain and watched the taillights blur.