He blinks at me, a lot and fast. Is he gonna cry? Oh, dear Jesus. “Glenn, I’m sorry. I never realized—” “No, it’s fine.” He stands abruptly, scraping his trash into a bag with jerky movements. “I am so sorry, Glenn. I hope this won’t affect—” “I’m a professional, Lennix,” he says, emphasizing my full name. “You want to stay friends. I get it. It’s fine.” He says fine in that way you know shit is for sure not fine.
Jesus
