Her Ex

'Skyler?!'

A chiselled face framed by a subtle five o'clock shadow. Blonde hair styled in a neat crew cut. A tempest brewed within those striking aquamarine eyes, swirling with confusion, then realisation, and lastly freezing over with—

Iris didn't stick around to find out. She instantly backtracked and aimed for the exit.

'Ugh, why him?!'

Skyler instinctively reached for her wrist. "Iris?"

Was it possible for someone's voice to deepen over three years? Or was she imagining things? Ignoring the way the certainty in his tone made her insides squirm, Iris turned around to face him. 

"You've got the wrong person," she said calmly. "Let go."

'Keep it cool, keep it cool.'

Skyler frowned, his eyes boring into her behind silver-rimmed glasses. They were a significant upgrade from his old boxy, black pair... She shouldn't have noticed that.

As Iris clung to her mask of annoyance and indifference, doubt crept onto Skyler's face. His grip loosened.

"Iris Tate! Order up!"

In a flash, the uncertainty was gone. "It is you," Skyler said triumphantly.

Iris groaned. "Fine, you got me. Can you let go now?"

He obliged, but followed her to the counter.

As Iris collected her magenta coloured beverage from Ken, she glared at him. "Thanks, Ken."

The oblivious barista beamed. "No problem, Iris. Have a nice day!"

Ken then handed a steaming cup to the man next to her. "One green tea for Mr Valentine. Have a nice day, too!"

"Thanks." Skyler's eyes flitted between Iris and the empty tables. "Can we talk?" 

Iris glanced away and jabbed a straw into her shake. "There's nothing to talk about."

"Touché." 

The steam from Skyler's tea rose between them, encompassing years of unspoken words and seconds of awkward silence. They drew a veil over his stormy eyes and her darting ones, shrouding enough that neither could tell what the other was thinking, but both could catch glimpses of features that radiated aching familiarity.

It was this place, too. 

It brought up memories of that spring seven years ago, but they felt like a lifetime away. 

The café wasn't as booming as it used to be. The plum blossoms outside were replaced by magnolias.

Iris was no longer obligated to rearrange bookshelves; he wasn't creeping behind them anymore.

Two people, once close, now avoided each other like strangers.

'What am I even doing here?' Iris pondered after another tasteless sip of what used to be her favourite beverage.

She chided herself for entertaining this meaningless standstill. Just as she was about to leave, Ken turned on the small television mounted above the cash register.

A talk show fizzled to life on its screen.

"So tell me, Larry, what makes 'Beloved Imposter' different?"

The middle-aged man seated across from the interviewer—Larry—crossed his fingers together and leaned forward. "Barbara. What is the purpose of dating shows?"

The host, Barbara, looked confused. "To help the contestants find love in a competitive, time-limited environment. But what does that have to do with the question?"

"I'm getting to it," Lary assured her. "But first, I disagree with your opinion."

Barbara gasped. "What do you think dating shows are for then?"

"I do not believe that dating shows are aimed to help others find their soulmates—and I doubt experienced viewers still do, either," Larry declared. "Competition? Yes. Love? No. In fact, more than 90% of couples formed from dating shows break up after the show ends, and those that don't seldom stay together for love."

He spat the last word out like it was last week's lunch before continuing, "You asked me why 'Beloved Imposter' is different. Here's my answer: We're not doing this for love; it's all about the money."

"But doesn't that contradict the very essence of dating shows?" Barbara exclaimed.

"On the contrary, our contestants will be exposed to the dark side of love: Lies and deceit," Larry stated. "Although the goal is to win one million dollars, I am confident that the show will force contestants to revaluate their true desires."

"Sounds interesting. Care to elaborate?"

Unexpectedly, Larry shook his head. "Our livestream starts on April 1. You will see then."

"Looking forward to it!" Barbara beamed, unoffended. "This will be the first dating show to utilise both livestreaming and taped broadcasting, and expectations are sky high."

Larry smirked. "Keep at it, please."

Barbara laughed, a sharp trill that pierced Iris's ears with it's measured professionalism. "One last question before we go: A little birdie told me you'll be bringing in a couple and a pair of exes for this romantic reimagining of Mafia. How does this affect the fairness of the competition?"

Larry straightened and stared at the camera with intense blue eyes. "Certainly, this is unfair to the single contestants who have to guess four identities rather than two. That is why the couple and the exes will receive a different salary for their participation: Double the payment rate per person for each episode until one member of their pairing is eliminated, in which case they will receive no payment unless they last long enough to make the million-dollar-guess."

Ba-bump. Ba-bump. Ba-bump.

In that moment, Iris's heart began to pound with renewed vigour. Her previous conviction and denial were nothing in the face of the director's tantalising invite.

On the TV, the interviewer wrapped up the talk and flashed a blinding smile. "And that's it for today, folks. Sign up for 'Beloved Imposter' now to win love or the money! I'm Barbara Smith, thank you for watching—"

"Do you wanna sign up?" Iris blurted out.

Skyler tore his attention away from the TV and frowned. "Pardon?"

Iris faced him and repeated seriously, "Do you want to sign up for 'Beloved Imposter' with me?"

"Seriously?!" Skyler's face froze over. "First you pretend to be someone else; now you want me to join a dating show with you?"

Iris opened her mouth, but no words came out. 

He was right. If she were him, she'd be furious at her own audacity. Why did she even suggest that?

Skyler's lashes lowered, hiding his icy eyes. When he looked up again, only courteousness was reflected at her. "Goodbye, Iris. It was nice meeting you."

'Liar.'

Her fingers closed around her cup, denting the plastic.

Crackle...

What right did she have to rope him into this? She could do it alone. Just let him go, let him go...

'Double the salary.'

'One million dollars.'

Let him—

'Another life...'

Ah, screw it.

"Wait!" she shouted.

Skyler stiffened, one hand on the door handle.

Iris whisked a napkin from the counter and scribbled something on it. Then, she folded and tucked it into the breast pocket of his jacket. Her hand barely lingered, retreating as though the brief contact had scorched her.

"My new number. Just in case you change your mind."

She lowered her head, unable to watch his expression. Above her, Skyler's eyes wavered, an invisible barrier trembling. His jaw clenched.

Ding! Clink! 

The quaint windchime hanging over cafe's door tinkled. As the door swung open, the bustle of the outside world escorted Skyler out. His tall figure weaved between the oncoming pedestrians outside, soon becoming nothing more than a blob.

And then he was gone, headed back to whatever life he now led—a life that she no longer had a part in.

"Stupid, stupid idiot," Iris berated herself. She collected the rest of her things and made for the door, no longer in the mood for reading.

When she left, a floral scented breeze brushed by the windchime, causing its heart-shaped charm to wink under the sun.

Ding! Clink!