We Can Work It Out
Darlene offers you a drink and you accept gratefully. I bite my lip. I feel like a child again – a child in trouble that’s been dragged to the headmistress’s office. It’s not a feeling I particularly enjoy.
“Look, I’m sorry,” I say.
“I’m sorry too,” you say. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. But I shouldn’t have been dismissive of your feelings. We’re acting like kids playing at being adults.”
I inhale deeply and wish I still smoked. Darlene comes back with a cup of coffee for you.
“I’ll leave you alone to talk,” she says firmly.
Copyright C.R.M. Nilsson 2010
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