The word was soft.
Complete.
I reached for her hand.
She let me take it.
That made everything worse.
Her fingers were familiar. The silver ring on her thumb pressed against mine.
“I can change.”
“I hope you do.”
“For us.”
“For yourself.”
“That isn’t the same.”
“No.”
“Claire.”
“I don’t want to become the emergency that finally makes you honest.”
“You aren’t an emergency.”
“I have been treated like one for years. Every time I ask for something, you manage the situation until I stop asking.”
I let go of her hand.
She turned back to the box.
“What about Seattle?”
“What about it?”
“You were supposed to come.”
“I canceled the flight.”
“You like Seattle.”
“I like you.”
The answer hurt more.
“You can still come.”
“No.”
“We don’t have to tell anyone.”
Claire looked at me.
There it was.
