I didn't recognize him until I looked up and caught a glimpse of his blue eyes. I felt my heart splinter from seeing them after so long without. I had spent three years, three of my best years, gazing into those eyes. I paused what I was doing, willing him to look up and notice me. Remember me.
I didn't really want him to. Not here, not now. I wanted him to wonder what I had become, to imagine something special for me. I quickly cast my eyes back down and ran the bar code over the scanner. I looked down the conveyor belt as I grabbed the next item. It looked like he was having a party.
They were having a party, I corrected myself as a woman hurried over, triumphantly held up a box of fancy crackers, and positively beamed at him. I felt a wiggle of pleasure when he didn't beam back, fixated instead on the screen as the total climbed higher and higher.
He didn't seem happy. Our life would be great, I thought smugly to myself. After all, he had been completely in love with me.
I was the one who broke up with him.
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