Page 11 of Dead to Me

His face shifted. I took another sip. Malcolm lowered his voice.

“Milan, I know you blame me.”

“I don’t blame anybody.”

He stared at me. My answer unsettled him more than if I’d been angry.

“I just want this weekend to go well for China.”

“So do I.”

“I mean it.”

“So do I.”

“She’s been through a lot.”

I looked at him like he was crazy.

“Has she?”

He exhaled.

“That came out wrong.”

“No, I think it came out exactly the way you intended.”

“You know what I’m saying.”

“I actually don’t.”

His hand tightened around his glass. He looked away.

I had spent six years imagining this moment. In my mind, I screamed, cursed, even slapped him. But reality was different.

“This is exactly what I was worried about,” he said.

“What?”

“You coming here all angry.”

“I’m not angry.”

Malcolm moved a little closer.

“Milan, what happened back then...”

“Malcolm.”

China spoke up, cutting us off. We both turned and saw her standing just a few feet away. She was smiling, but her eyes said something else.

“Everything okay?”

I answered before Malcolm could.

“Everything is fine.”

China looked at him. Then back to me.