Her face stung like he’d slapped her. Heart rattling in her ears. She was never lost for words; words spilled out of her without pause, flowed from her tongue and her fingers and her keyboard as fast and as fluidly as she breathed. But how many times had her internal word processor gotten the better of her better judgment? “I—” she blurted. “Sorry. I’m sorry. You’re right. Sorry. I’m—I’ll be back, I’m just going to take a break. I mean, you don’t have to stay. Sorry.” That seemed to be the only word she could say now, sorry.
