“Well, it was his loss,” I said. “Oh don’t patronize me,” she snapped, turning serious again. “People always say that, you see, but they’re wrong. It wasn’t his loss. It was mine. I loved him.” She hesitated for a moment and then repeated the phrase, with added emphasis on the crucial word. “And I still miss him, despite everything. I just wish he’d been honest with me, that’s all.
