“Spit it out, Darius. Or Darren, as I heard you go by now,” she spat poisonously. I cowered a little under her tone and felt my defenses curl around me. I did not like her calling me Darren, at all. That name was reserved for people who actually cared for me.
“It doesn’t matter, Meredith. Can’t we just eat?” I tried, hoping to deflect the question.
“Fine, if that’s what you want,” she sang sarcastically, stabbing a small cucumber with her fork.
“So, what’s new with you?” I asked, hoping to get some small talk going.
“Oh, not much. My baby sister is doing well, she just turned seven.”
I softened as I thought back to Mer’s little sister. She was only an infant when we were together, but she was the cutest girl. For a good while, I wished that our child would be just like that. There wer
