He looked up.
“Maggie? Is that you?”
“Hello, Kevin.”
He swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
I caught it and set it in his lap.
I gave a short laugh. “For what?”
“For making you eat alone,” he said. “For telling people you lied. For smiling when they believed me.”
That stopped me in my tracks.
“That’s more specific than I expected,” I said. “Still not enough.”
“I know.”
I backed away. “Good.”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a card.
“That’s more specific than I expected.”
“Take my number,” he said. “Throw it away if you want.”
“I probably will.”
“I know.”
I took the card because leaving it there felt too much like kindness.
***
For three days, I told myself it was over.
Then a comment appeared under my newest blog post.
“Throw it away if you want.”
“What if the person who hurt you knows he doesn’t deserve forgiveness but wants to tell the truth anyway?”
