[this is part II of a story started HERE]
"Fuck you..." she says clearly and a bit louder than she expected (half-wanting him to hear).
It really is a rare day. A Chicago summer is the nicest three days anyone will see. Despite being a Thursday and despite it being two o-clock in the afternoon, it seems like the entire city has taken the day off. Young couples are playing with their newborns under the shade of the park trees, dogs are finally getting the workout of a frisbee thrown by their owners.
Lisa falls back on to her elbows but keeps her knees pointed to the sky. The flower falls loosly from her grip and she watches a cloud drift. Had it really been three years since they met? When he was holding her hand last week on the way to the movie it seemed like they had been together for a decade. Today three years seems like a month.
Even in her anger she loved him more today than when he left last week.
"You selfish son-of-a-bitch", she thought. She is still looking up when her cloud slides under another, much bigger, cloud. He just laughed. That's how they met. She slipped on an ice cube flat on her ass and he stood, at the bar, and tried to hold it back. It was too much and he burst. Of course, she was embarassed and pissed (embarassed for herself and straight-up pissed at the cute stranger laughing).
"I bet we would have never met if that ice cube wasn't there. I was on my way out anyway. Today would be just a sunny Chicago day if not for one fucking ice cube. Instead, it is the first of many anniversaries. One week without David and the fucking sun is shining and the wind is warm."
"I hope you're happy now. I hope you found whatever you thought was missing. Just so you know, it sucks here. The wind is too warm and the sun is too bright."
She forgot to bring a blanket and she thinks the ugly green towel was last left at his place. The grass was already staining her skirt. All she could think about was what he said when he came over from the bar and offered her his hand.