“Still—”
“Brennan, it was basic kindness.”
“I know.”
Then the words that fall from her lips make my heart lighten. “Besides, it’s not the only meal we’ll ever share together.”
“You think not?”
“I know it.” Her expression shifts as she studies me contemplatively. Satisfied with whatever she sees, she declares, “It wasn’t like this when we first started dating.”
“No, it wasn’t.”It’s better. So much better.
Amy sets the marker down to lean against the edge of her desk. “You used to hide all your pain. All your worries.”
“I guess…I thought…”
“Yes.” She steps forward. “What?”
“I thought if I showed weakness, I wouldn’t be accepted.”
“Last night, when you were sitting across from me, you showed me your pain.” Her voice catches. “You’ve changed.”
“I don’t know what to do with that.”
“You don’t have to do anything with it,” she says. “When I got home, I realized I haven’t said something to you.”
“What’s that?”
“I forgive you. I need you to know that for us to move forward.”
I gape at her, undone.Forgiveness. A word I never thought she’d ever say to me.My heart shatters. “Amy?—”
She raises a hand. “But don’t mistake my forgiveness for excusing the past like it didn’t happen.”
“I know.”Boy, do I know.
“I also need you to understand, this—whatever we’re becoming—still needs work.”
“I understand,” I say, and mean it. “No shortcuts.”
“So, we’re on the same page?”
“Absolutely.” For a charged moment, neither of us says anything until she breaks the silence.
“So, what brings you by? Looking to solve this?” She gestures to the board.
My lips curve. “You’re lucky I recognize that as quadratics.”
“I’m impressed.”
“I’ve always been impressed by you,” I counter.
“You’re going to make me blush.”
“It would look good on you.”
“Brennan…” Her voice is exasperated.
