“I’m really glad you called,” she said.“Come on, let’s go inside.”
Stepping into that restaurant was likestepping back in time, to a time when me and Max were a couple andeverything was easy.
Low lighting, dark wood, bruschetta. Whatmore could you ask for?
“Look, I’m really sorry,” she said, runningher fingers up and down the stem of her wine glass. “Those things Isaid when we broke up… I was just plain wrong. I can’tbelieve you’re even speaking to me now. If I were you, Iwould never speak to me again.”
“Water under the bridge,” I said, because itwas easier than talking about it.
“No, Chris.” She cupped her hand over mineon the table. “All that stuff I said about you just wanting totransition to cash in on male privilege and enforce patriarchalhegemonies? That was really out of bounds
