“Also . . .” He struggled for words. “I want you to know that I thought about you all week. And I wish . . .” He paused. “I keep wishing things were different.” I smiled and lifted my shoulders. “I wish things were different too, but I appreciate your honesty.” “So we’re okay?” The tightness in my throat made it hard to get the words out. “We’re okay.” He nodded. “‘Night.” “‘Night.” I closed the door and leaned back against it, trying not to cry. We might be okay, but I was not.
