Aaron
The phone call replays in my mind for what feels like the hundredth time today. Chloe’s voice, soft but uncertain, rings in my ears: “I thought we could hang out tomorrow. You know… to get to know each other better.”
Her words had been tentative, laced with a nervousness I wasn’t used to hearing from her. Chloe Marcher wasn’t the kind of woman who second-guessed herself—not in public, not with family, and certainly not with me. I agreed, of course. What else could I do? Decline? Say, “Sorry, I can’t because I’ve made a complete mess of this situation by sleeping with your sister and getting her pregnant”?
No. That wasn’t an option.
Now, sitting in my office as the day winds to a close, I try to make sense of it all. My elbows rest on my desk, my fingers pressing into my temples a
