It was how she went up to him at him at the party, waiting for me to be on the other side of the room. I just knew. He’ll deny it, and say I’m being jealous or paranoid, like all the other times. But I knew.
A woman always knows.
Matthew Corey is a writer living in Brooklyn, and has poems published in Two Cities Review, Travel-taintd: Turtle-Point Press Review, and fiction in the Lascaux Review.