Amy’s line lived in me. Rose heard it too, and some of her clinical distance eased.
“Have you spoken to Amy?”
“No.”
“Good.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“Because respecting space is part of repair.”
“Yes.”
“Are you keeping the entry if she never comes back?”
Wind moved through the trees at the edge of the intersection. I looked across the street instead of at Rose.
“Yes.”
“The honest answer?”
“Yes.”
“Are you withdrawing if she asks?”
It hurt.
“No.”
“Good.”
I stared.
“You wanted no?”
“I wanted your decision not to belong to her.”
The irony was clear. Amy had taught me that.
“Are you keeping it to punish yourself?”
“No.”
“Prove you’re not fraudulent?”
“Not the only reason.”
“Dani.”
I exhaled.
“It’s still there. The wish to erase the old result.”
“That matters.”
“I know.”
“Does it control the decision?”
