“I wanted to see you. I wanted to—”
Meow.
Oh no. Oh shit. That tiny, raspy meow, which sounds absolutely nothing like Ruthie’s chirpy ones, snaps me out of my daze. It seems to have the same effect on Alex, because he stops talking and looks down to where Penguin pushes against my legs.
I quickly scoop him into my arms before he can make a grand escape.
“Come in, or he’ll get out,” I say, and grudgingly step aside for Alex to enter. I don’t say anything once the door closes behind him, just wait for him to continue. I don’t comment on the kitten in my arms; instead, I allow myself to bask in the bizarreness of the moment.
“You got a kitten.”
“I got a kitten.”
I don’t believe it’s necessary for me to inform him that, actually, I gottwokittens.
“You have a kitten in your dorm room.”
“Yes.”
“Whydo you have a kitten in your dorm room?”
“Is there a reason you’re here?”
Penguin starts squirming, so I place him on the floor. He immediately walks up to Alex and rubs against his legs.
Traitor.
“There was, but I seem to have forgotten it,” he says, blinking down at Penguin, who stands on his hind legs, reaches up with his front paws, and stretches himself on Alex, as if Alex is his personal scratching post. I can even see his tiny claws piercing the fabric of Alex’s jeans. Maybe not so much a traitor after all. Alex looks up at me, blinks, and says, “You’re really not going to tell me why there’s a kitten in your dorm room?”
“It’s none of your business why there’s a kitten in my dorm room,” I snap.
Properly chastised, Alex nods, glances down at Penguin one more time, and apparently decides to ignore the claws in his legs.
“Sorry to show up uninvited. I tried to call, but I assume you blocked my number.”
“Astute observation,” I remark dryly.
“You so love to do that.”
So hedidknow I’d blocked his number after that night in 2019. I always wondered.
“Why are you here?” I press impatiently.
He takes a deep breath. Gathers himself. Nods.
“I was an ass before the break… and all those years ago at Ellie’s wedding. And at his dinner party. I want to apologize. First, for what I said last month. I said things I didn’t mean. I was caught off guard by my own slipup. I found myself on the defensive, and I lashed out. I shouldn’t have, and I’m sorry. I—”
“Okay,” I cut in.
“Okay?”
“Apology accepted.”
He squints, tilting his head in confusion. “Apology accepted, just like that?”
“Apology accepted, just like that.” But because I can see the faintest glimmer of hope creeping into his eyes, I shut it down. “I believe that you’re sorry. And that you didn’t mean to lash out at me. It does me no good to hold a grudge. So, apology accepted. But that doesn’t mean we can go back to the way we were before. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to trust you again.”
He opens his mouth to interrupt, but I hold my hand up to stop him. He can speak when I’m done.
