Maybe something he had repeated to himself for thirty years.
I met his eyes.
“So did I.”
He blinked.
“I didn’t mean—”
“You knew nothing about me.”
“I know.”
“No.”
My voice trembled, but I didn’t look away.
“You know something now because Elizabeth embarrassed you.”
His face went pale again.
“You weren’t sorry when it was just me.”
Silence.
I pointed toward the shattered plate.
“You weren’t sorry when I was standing here alone.”
Alan reached inside his jacket.
I assumed he was getting his wallet.
“Put it away.”
His hand stopped.
“I want to make this right.”
“Then don’t buy your way out of it.”
His eyes lifted.
“Apologize.”
For several seconds, his hand remained inside his jacket.
Then he slowly pulled it out.
Empty.
“I’m sorry.”
I waited.
He knew immediately that wasn’t enough.
Alan glanced toward Elizabeth.
She said nothing.
Then he turned fully toward me.
“I humiliated you.”
His voice was quieter now.
“I threatened your job.”
He swallowed.
“And I made a cruel judgment about your pregnancy when I knew absolutely nothing about your life.”
His eyes dropped momentarily.
“I’m sorry.”
I studied him.
Part of me wanted to punish him with silence.
Another part wanted to list every fear I’d been carrying alone for months.
Instead, I gave him the only thing I was ready to give.
“Thank you.”
His phone buzzed.
Alan looked at the screen.
“My meeting.”
Elizabeth raised one eyebrow.
