“Next weekend? A week to plan?” “Sure.” Sure. God, I could barf. The nonchalance of that response sends my stomach plummeting. Guilt and nerves hit hard along with something else. Disappointment. Because, deep down, I wish there were a tiny bit of enthusiasm. I wish there were a spark of… I don’t know. Camaraderie? He doesn’t even want his family present, and it stings.
