Page 121 of Smoke and Glitter

His mouth opens.

Nothing comes.

The silence stretches.

Sam looks down at the table, flexes his fingers once and tries again. "I had an answer when I was driving here."

"Then take your time."

"That isn't the problem."

"What is?"

His eyes meet mine.

"I can think it when there's nobody sitting across from me who can do anything with it."

There. That one gets under my ribs. I stay quiet.

Sam swallows, but whatever comes next stays lodged somewhere behind his teeth.

Eventually he shakes his head.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for not making it pretty."

"It isn't about pretty."

"Then what is it about?"

He looks at me for a long moment.

"I'm trying to hand it to you, and every part of me wants to keep hold of it."

My eyes sting. That is an answer too. Maybe not the whole one. But it's his. I sit back in my chair and breathe.

"I believe you're sorry."

His head lifts.

"I mean that." My thumb moves slowly along the edge of my cup. "I've spent years writing statements for people who want credit for apologizing without ever admitting what they did. You didn't do that today."

Sam doesn't interrupt.

"You told me exactly where you hurt me. You didn't blame Elise. You didn't blame Bex. You didn't blame me for asking. You didn't tell me you were confused."

"I wasn't confused."

"No. You weren't."

The admission settles between us.

"And you gave me something true about you," I say. "Several things."

His eyes stay on mine.

"But?"