“Sometimes. You were efficient, good at your job, and cold, but the evidence of your love was in everything you did for us. The gap that you left behind. I’m sorry I didn’t recognise it when it mattered.”
If this isn't real, he’s hitting it hard with the regret and redemption game, and I keep swinging between emotions. I'm not sure whether I should trust him and rethink what happened that night and see this all as a ploy. He has me so messed up in the head that I can’t trust my judgement, and there’s an urge in me to ask him straight if he tampered with the car.
“And you… were you like this? Have you changed?” I ask as though it’s genuine curiosity in a bid to move us on and control my impulses. “Did you spend this kind of time with me and do these things?”
“I haven’t changed, just the
