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I think he understood. How fragile this morning was, and if he said the wrong thing, it was all going to fall apart.
If he’d asked me, “What gives? Why’d you come over?” or something else stupid like that, I would have bolted.
If he’d said, “So, are we square now? Everything okay?” I would have shaken my head in disgust and gotten up and left.
But Matt is smart. And Matt knows me. Knew me, at least, and I suppose I haven’t really changed that much.
We sat in the bagel place drinking coffee (at least he did) and eating bagels (onion for him, with salmon cream cheese, gross; whole grain for me, nothing on it), and we didn’t really say all that much. The conversation was in the fact that we were both there. My coming over this morning was a whole lengthy monologue, if he wanted to tra
