"I'm not going to ask you to."
"I know that too."
"Then what do you want me to say."
My jaw tightens.
"I don't know."
"Okay."
There it is again.
I get up. Take my mug to the sink. Rinse it. Set it down with more force than is required.
"I have a life in Toronto, Gray."
"I know."
"I have an apartment. I have a career. I have a team of sources that took me six years to build."
"I know."
"I have my grandmother's cast iron pan."
"Bring the pan."
"Don't."
He sets his mug down. Slow.
"Simone."
"Don't soften me right now. Let me be mad."
"At what."
"At the fact that Tuesday was always Tuesday. I knew it was Tuesday. You knew it was Tuesday. And last night we acted like it wasn't."
"Last night wasn't a lie."
"I didn't say it was a lie."
"Then what."
"I said it was Tuesday."
He looks at me a long second.
"Come here."
"No."
"Come here."
"I said no."
His eyes change.
