Page 69 of Love Overdose: St. Louis

“Even when you’re saving someone’s life?”

“Especially then. My work being important doesn’t make your feelings unimportant.”

She grew quiet.

“You really mean that?”

“Yes.”

“That’s new for me.”

“It shouldn’t be.”

“No,” she said. “But it is.”

I looked at the untouched garment bag. The previous woman in my life had spent months accepting apologies until she no longer believed them. By the time I recognized what my absences had done, she had already made peace with leaving.

I wouldn’t use Frankie’s independence as permission to repeat that failure.

“I want to see you Sunday,” I said.

“I teach Sunday mornings.”

“What time?”

“My last class begins at eleven thirty.”

“I’ll come afterward.”

“To the studio?”

“Yes.”

“You want to come to my Zumba studio?”

“I want to see where you work.”

“You might get recruited into the class.”

“I’ll accept the risk.”

“You’re very sure of your dancing.”

“I told you I could hold my own.”

“Mmm-hmm.”

“I still need evidence.”

“You’ll get it.”

“What time does class end?”

“Twelve thirty.”

“I’ll be there before it does.”

Her laugh grew brighter. “So you can watch me?”