"She's gone," I repeat to myself, as I examine my reflection in my bathroom window, nodding firmly. "And that's the best thing that could have happened for both of us."
We slept together, but Helena isn't who I thought she was, and it's time I moved on, so I'm going to go on this date with Lila. We're going to have a good time during dinner, and if things go well, then I'll drive her home, kiss her goodnight, and maybe think about doing it again.
I open the medicine cabinet for my spare bottle of mouthwash, curse when half the items in it tumble into the sink—including, for no reason I can think of, toothpicks. Shouldn't they be in the kitchen?
Why would I…?
Doesn't matter. Deal with it later.
Shaking my head, I realise I must have used up my spare mouthwash and stuff everything back in the cabinet. Not every date has to end with a kiss, and this is a sign that this first one won't.
