“Imagined what?” “You. Me. The cherry tree. I thought we were friends.” “We were. Once.” He layered blame on top of that one syllable until it was all I heard. “I don’t get you. I didn’t get you as a high school senior, and I don’t get you as a business mogul. And I sure as hell don’t get what happened yesterday.” His eyes changed. It was an almost imperceptible shift, but I’d spent a lifetime studying him and didn’t miss the glint of silver.
