“I can’t say I’m not glad I didn’t get on that plane. That doesn’t mean I wouldn’t go back and stop the attacks if I had the chance. I’m not trading my life for all the others—that was never a decision I got to make. It’s not the choice I would’ve made, if I’d known.”
On the surface, her words didn’t make much sense, but the more I thought about it, the more I sort of got what she was trying to say. “Yeah. I’m sorry.”
“No, Jess, I’m sorry for hurting you. I really am. But I’m not sorry for who I’ve become or for being happy with myself now.” Again, she met my eyes steadily. Her pupils nearly swallowed the brown. Not a hint that she was lying. Maybe I was fooling myself, but she seemed sincere.
“Or for having better legs than me?” I grumbled.
She smiled. “Longer legs, maybe. Never bette
