"I don't want you to think—well, I mean...I just don't want you to expect it to happen again," he went on. I was looking at him, but when he said that, I lowered my gaze, looking at the creamy white lids on the hot coffees instead. "I had a weak moment. We both did. You had that drink, and I was drinking a lot last night. It was late and we were both tired and struck with grief. I probably shouldn't have given the drink to you. I just—we can keep what happened between us, right? If you aren’t okay being alone with me anymore, I understand, and you don’t have to be after today. I feel terrible
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