8
Zac caught up to me outside. He took my hand and directed me to the large potted palm near the restaurant's front entrance. "Amy, it's okay," he murmured, stroking my knuckles with his thumb. "We won't stay." He tucked my hair behind my ear even though it didn't need tucking, and stroked my face.
"I'm sorry," I said, shaking my head over and over. "I can't…do this."
"You don't have to do anything you don't want to."
I opened my mouth to argue that he wasn't letting me get an annulment, that he had forced me to spend the weekend with him, but that was unfair and untrue. He'd never forced, only asked. I could have said no at any time, or gone home. I could have insisted on the annulment without actually seeing him face to face. I'd done none of those things.
What did that say about me
