I’m on my way home from my run, just two streets over from the house when a car pulls up beside me. I know it immediately. It’s Mark’s. “Get in,” he says when the window is half down. “I’ll give you a lift home.”
“This makes no sense.” I motion toward my running shoes. “The point of this,” I say, “is to exercise.”
“It’s about Melanie,” he tells me, and that’s all it takes. I know I’m getting in that car.
The next thing I know, we’re sitting in my kitchen. “Have you been working out?” he asks, nodding at my upper body.
“A little.” It’s a lie. I’ve been working out every spare moment I have. I want to win Melanie’s affection. I want her to forgive me for sending her away. I want to show her I have rejuvenated myself, too.
“Melanie will be pleased. In fact, the reason I’m here is to tell
