Page 25 of The Design of Goodbye
“She’s old enough to be a boss?”
“Yeah,” he said. “She’s twenty-five.”
“She looks so young.”
He let out a soft burst of air—almost a laugh. “Don’t tell her that.”
“I won’t.” Then I added, “She’s really protective of you.”
“She is?”
“It seemed like it, anyway.”
A small smile tugged at his lips. “Are you going to tell me why you’re here?”
That small smile of his gave me the confidence to hand him the coffee and paper bag. “Take these.”
“What do you want me to do with them?” he asked.
I rolled my eyes as I pointed to the drink. “That’s a coffee. You drink that. And that”—I pointed to the bag—“contains apple caramel brownies with cinnamon cream cheese frosting. My dad made them. They’re amazing. You’re supposed to eat them.” At his still-blank stare, I clarified, “They’re yours, Liam. I brought them for you.”
He angled the coffee slightly and inspected the label on the paper cup. “I’ve never tried Buzz.” He glanced at me over the rim of his glasses. “Why?”
My eyes traveled over his confused face. I needed to explain myself. At least a little. I’d come here hoping the drink and food would be an obviousI’msorry, but I’d been wrong. “It’s because of what I did last Saturday, okay?”
“Ah.” Understanding crossed his features. “When you ditched me?”
“Yeah,” I agreed regretfully. “When I did that.”
“Is this supposed to be an apology?”
“It’s supposed to be,” I answered sheepishly.
“I’m not sure you know this,” he started, relaxing, “but apologies normally have the words ‘I’m sorry’ in them somewhere.”
“I know.” I glanced at the floor, unable to look him in the eyes. “I don’t say that.”
“Why not?”
It took me a moment to admit, “It hurts too much.”
Instead of asking me to explain, he asked, “So, you never say ‘I’m sorry’?”
“Not unless I really need to.” My stomach knotted. “It’s hard to explain.”
“Okay.” It shocked me how easily he accepted my explanation. “While that may have been the crappiest apology I’ve ever received,” he said, “you’re forgiven.”
My eyes shot to his.
Forgiven.
I’d spent the entire week dreading this moment, but I’d never once expected forgiveness. It completely caught me off guard. “You mean it?”
“Mean what? That it was the crappiest—”
“No,” I said softly. “That you forgive me?”
“Yeah, of course,” he said, and something that felt like relief flooded through me. “I don’t lie.”
