Instead, he continued to stare back at me. “I was supposed to meet you after work last night. I was supposed to walk you home, and I didn’t show up. I remember now.” “Well, good for you.” I gestured to the window and glared. “See ya.” “I’m sorry.” “You’re not sorry.” I stared hard back at him. “You never say sorry, because you’re never sorry, remember?” His green eyes remained locked on mine, unblinking. “I am this morning.” “Well, this morning I’m too mad to accept it,” I countered, swallowing down a surge of emotion. “When you didn’t show up last night, or answer your phone, I thought you
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