He nods. “We could keep it simple, just go to dinner.” He flips his phone from front to back, over and over against the tabletop, staring at me.

It’s obvious how hard he’s trying not to look at my cheek. He didn’t last time I came to see him either, though, he had rushed me out as quickly as I had arrived. He hasn’t acknowledged that day once, and I’m not about to bring it up.

I am tempted to tilt my head to show him the cut is still visible. It’s on the mend and I’ve been using creams to help, not because of his scar comment, but because I sure as hell hope it goes away myself.

Anthony shifts slightly. “You could invite your friends.”

I smooth the napkin on my lap for something to do, then force a small laugh. “Trust me, my friends would bore you.”

“I want to meet them.”

His quick response has my eyes returning to his.

Smile, Jameson.

“That’s sweet, I’m glad to hear.” I pick up my drink, finishing it off, and finally, Anthony picks up his silverware and continues to eat.

He offers a small smile, and the rest of the meal is spent in silence.

After eating, he takes me out to the garden in the back of the building, shows me the fountain they added, and when we slip back inside, he follows my every move as I grab my bag.

As I walk toward the door, he heads for his desk.

“I think I like Jamie.”

My eyes fly to his, and he takes his sweet time sliding his to mine. He rolls the cuffs of his white button-up and slowly lowers himself into the chair. “It’s far more feminine, Jamie.” He says the name as if to test the sound once more.

Or maybe it’s to test my reaction.

“Do you agree?” He cocks his head.

I open my mouth, my fist clenching the handle.

Any means necessary.

I smile wide, welcoming, as if I would be happy to oblige, to erase the one thing that’s truly mine. “It is a pretty name.” Smile through your lie. “See you soon.”

He nods and I get the hell out.

Behind the wheel of my car, my body begins to shake, but I wiggle in my seat, taking a deep breath and blowing it out just as quickly.

The second I get out of the parking lot I call my mom.

“Date over so soon?” she answers.

“Did you tell Anthony I didn’t have plans for my birthday?”

“I might have mentioned something about it approaching rather soon.”

I shake my head, switching lanes. “Mom... maybe we should cut our Sunday things to once a month. It’s only October. We have months before anything changes between Anthony and me.”