I Kiss You Like She Did When You Miss Her

The third time Russell Rowlett shattered a Limoges porcelain plate, the flying shards left several cuts on my face.

He said coldly, “Your breathing is off by two beats! She wouldn’t tremble like you!”

In the basement theater, a Hollywood film starring his first love was playing on a loop.

The Oscar-winning actress, whose features bore a seventy-percent resemblance to mine, had ruthlessly abandoned Russell two years ago. Since then, I have become her substitute.

“Again! Hit me! I told you! Hit me!”

“Mr. Rowlett, I… I wouldn't dare.”