“You already have.”
“Not properly.”
“What would make it proper?”
“Honesty.”
Honestyimmediately made me think of Dani. I disliked that too. Evelyn continued.
“I handled the end of our relationship badly. I told myself I was protecting you because I didn’t want to admit I had feelings for Vanessa before I ended things.”
The café noise receded. Not because the information was new. Because she had finally said it without softening language.
“How long?” I asked.
“A few months.”
“Emotional or physical?”
“Emotional.”
I watched her face.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
Dani had turnedtruthinto a question. It worked here too. Evelyn did not look away.
“I kissed her once before we broke up,” she said. “After the holiday party.”
My hand tightened around the coffee cup. There it was. The exact line I had spent six months trying not to know.
“One kiss,” I said.
“Yes.”
“The party where I asked whether there was something between you.”
“Yes.”
“You told me I was being insecure.”
“Yes.”
My fingers closed around the coffee cup. Not heartbreak. Not exactly. Anger sharpened by confirmation.
“You made me apologize.”
“I know.”
“I apologized for distrusting you while you were lying.”
Evelyn’s face tightened.
“I’m sorry.”
She sounded sincere. That did not make the apology useful. Across the street, blue birds on a mural faced opposite directions, wings extended.
