“So have you talked to him since that night at his parents?” Pam asked me as she settled onto my couch, folding her legs under herself, holding a glass of merlot.
“No. I don’t even know what to say.”
“He has tried to contact you, right?”
I nodded, biting my lip. “I, uh, I think I broke things off.”
Her eyes bugged out. “You think?”
“Over text.”
“Damian.”
“I know.” I buried my face in my hands. Then peered up at her. “I just said we should, you know, see other people, and I really wasn’t available to see him.”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake. So you’re going to let that b***h win?”
“Pam, she’s his sister. I’m sure he doesn’t think of her that way.”
“Well, I do. And why don’t you at least talk to him about it. Maybe he doesn’t feel like she does.”
“I think his whole family feels that way.
