“Would he lie to me?”
It might have been a great passion, the kind of encounter that leaves one bruised, ecstatic, changed, all at once, but she was glad now that it was over.
Still: was he lying, cheating, pretending?
Did it matter, as now her mind turned to this unquestionable fact: “he” was now but one of the old flames?
Image: Félix Vallotton (1865-1925) – La haine (1908)