“You concealed a major race decision. I cannot oversee a plan built on incomplete information.”
“I can withdraw.”
“That is your decision.”
“Would you continue if I did?”
“Medical trust is not restored through one action.”
The same truth Amy understood: remorse did not erase consequences.
“Okay.”
Rose picked up her bag.
“You meet Amy today?”
“Yes.”
“Do not ask her to forgive you.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Do not ask whether she is staying.”
“I know.”
“Do not make a joke.”
“That seems excessive.”
Rose stared.
“Sorry.”
The reflex. Even now. I studied the rubber floor.
“I won’t.”
She walked toward the door.
“Rose.”
She stopped.
“I’m sorry.”
“Yes.”
She left. Knowing was not enough.
Amy chose the river café. Public location. Clear menu. Neutral territory. The first real date had been at a restaurant with plants and candles. This place had metal chairs and no atmosphere. I arrived twenty minutes early. She arrived exactly on time. Dark trousers. White blouse. Silver watch. No blue. The absence of the color hurt irrationally. She sat across from me.
“Thank you for coming,” I said.
“You said no prepared statement.”
“I didn’t.”
