“What will you do about the race?”
“I don’t know.”
“For once, do not make the decision based on me.”
“I won’t.”
“Or as punishment.”
“I’ll try.”
“Try honestly.”
“Yes.”
Silence settled. I wanted one more minute. One more question. One more chance to make the conversation produce a different outcome. Amy stood. I stood too.
“Can I hug you?” I asked.
“No.”
Her answer broke something. I accepted it.
“Okay.”
Her eyes went bright. Saying no hurt her too. The knowledge did not reduce the consequence.
“Goodbye, Dani.”
“Goodbye, Amy.”
She walked away. I did not follow.
I called my therapist from the café. The voicemail picked up. I left a message. No charm. No joke.
“I registered for a marathon without telling the people supporting me. My girlfriend asked for space. I am having thoughts that this proves I ruin everything, and I know that is shame trying to make the story final. I need an appointment.”
My voice shook. I left my number. Then I called Gloria. She answered while children shouted in the background.
“What happened?”
She knew from my breathing.
“I lied to Amy.”
“What did you lie about?”
“The marathon entry.”
Silence.
“You registered?”
“Yes.”
“Without telling her?”
“Yes.”
