Blinking back moisture, I nod and skirt around him. As I pass, he calls my name with my preferred pronunciation: softJat the start and long vowels. “Yo-AH-nah.”
A shiver runs along my spine. I stop, but don’t turn.
He’s close without touching, the warmth pouring off him telling me exactly where he stands in relation to me.
“I’ll never forget, but sometimes, I earn forgiveness. Max forgave. The question is, will you?”
I refuse to relive that last, horrid argument. Not ever, but certainly not in a hotel hallway. Yet, even pushing back the memory in its entirety, many of the things we said linger as splinters, lodged deep inside. My tight throat makes it hard to breathe.
“Depends on what, specifically, we’re talking about.” A stumbling step takes me to the far side of the corridor, and I lean against the wall for support. I’ve endured too much for one day, for an afternoon, for a matter of hours.
Movement in the distance brings whiffs of cider and vinegar, clearing the air.
“Aunty Jo?” Caity’s heels somehow manage to click on the carpet as she hurries to my side. Her eyes narrow as she studies Dan, who steps back to rest against the wall as he watches.
Corin follows, steps slower and heavier. We form a triangle, with Caity and me on one side, Corin bracing us, and Dan at the far point.
“I got delayed.” I lay a hand on Caity’s arm, squeezing lightly, trying to ease both her tension and my own. “Ran into someone I knew.”
“A friend of Max?” Corin asks.
“‘Old acquaintance’ better describes it.” Dan nods at Corin and Caity, glancing between them until he focuses on Corin and holds out his hand, then offers his name.
“Ah.” Corin introduces himself and Caity. Caity only nods, but Corin and Dan shake hands.
There’s no sign of competition or aggression, no bared teeth or taut arm muscles suggesting competing grips trying to out-muscle the other. All the same, when they let go each flexes their fingers.
“You received the letters?” Corin asks.
Dan nods.
“Letters?” I ask, glancing between them before my eyes settle on Corin. “What letters?”
Corin hesitates, drawing in a hissing breath. “Max wrote him that last month.”
Maybe he continues, maybe he doesn’t, but his words echo in my head.
A flicker of hurt runs through my chest. Max left nothing written specifically for me, granted I was there every moment I could be, talking between his bouts of pain and sleep. I still can’t quite believe it.
“He wrote toyou?”
“As I said, my argument was never with Max.” Dan runs a hand through his hair, leaving tracks through the gray. “If it helps, Johanna, he basically asked if I’d grown up. I swear I have.”
None of it makes sense. I turn away, not looking at any of them. The wall is comfortingly bland and asks nothing of me.
“The car’s waiting.” Corin’s arm wraps around my shoulders. His warm hand rubs my back, easing some of the tension, as he gently tugs at me.
I give way.
As we pass Dan, Corin inclines his head. “Nice meeting you.”
“Likewise.” Dan’s low words resound in my bones. “See you soon.”
I can feel him watching as I walk away.
Just like before.
Chapter 3
