Me to Zeno: I don’t have to tell you anything. It was phone s*x between two people who had an itch to scratch. That’s it.
Harsh but necessary. I’m tired of being blown around like a leaf caught in his turbulent winds.
Nevio: I’d still rather be with you. I’m coming back no matter what on Friday. Will I be able to see you?
I can picture his dimpled grin coaxing me to say yes, but I respect my father too much to ignore his warning. I don’t understand it, but I don’t have to.
Me to Nevio: I should be around. That sounds vague enough.
Zeno: Is that what you think?
Me to Zeno: What have you done over the years to suggest anything different? Nevio: Knowing I get to see you once I’m back makes this trip tolerable.
Me to Nevio: See you soon!
Shit. Was an exclamation point too much?
Zeno:
