And so, I left the restaurant, grabbed a taxi, and went straight home. Adrian didn't return until one in the morning. Even across the living room, I could smell the perfume clinging to him: Dior Hypnotic Poison, the one Clara always wore.
The familiar itch returned to my hands, and I stood up, heading for the bedroom to escape the scent. But Adrian blocked my way. "Emily, is this how you behave? All my high school friends were at dinner, and you just left without saying a word. Where's your sense of decency? How do you expect me to save face?"
Before, I would have bent backward for Adrian, always putting his reputation first. Even when, during a drinking game, he joked, "Emily never gets drunk. With her here, I'm guaranteed to win."
I'd drink until I was on the verge of throwing up so that he wouldn't lose.
But not tonight.
I didn't even bother to attend the post-dinner activities, much less make excuses to his friends when I left.
When Adrian confronted me, I casually brushed him off. "I wasn't feeling well."
Realizing I might be on my period, his face softened lightly as he put his things down.
"I'll make you some tea," he said before heading to the kitchen.