I was unable to say anything after I sat down, so numb and unbelieving I was of what was happening. Every question that popped into in my head, rational or not, was prefaced by an endless string of new questions.
“I can’t speak,” I said.
I fought the urge to reach for her, remembering how painfully our experience together had ended years ago. I fought the urge to hold her as tightly as I could. The same guilty smile was on her face, as if tempted to stray from a prepared answer. I wanted to devour her.
“I told them I wanted to come back,” she said. “I demanded.” She reached over and put her hand on mine. I stared at it, unable to believe either hand was real. Making eye contact was next to impossible. “Cathy pulled a Wallace and didn’t answer my messages. Not for a long time. I thought
