“And Gavin fired you for that?”
“He said I missed the Whitcombe presentation.”
Sarah didn’t say anything for several seconds.
Then, quietly, “Chris, I’m sorry.”
That hurt worse than I expected.
My ex-wife and I had spent years learning how to speak to each other without reopening old wounds.
But there were moments when her voice still sounded like the woman I had once planned to grow old with.
I swallowed.
“I’ll figure it out.”
“Tuition is due next week.”
“I know.”
“I’m not bringing that up to pressure you.”
“I know.”
“And the mortgage?”
“I said I’ll figure it out.”
My voice came out sharper than I intended.
Sarah became quiet.
I closed my eyes.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Another pause.
Then she said something that made my chest tighten.
“You always figure it out, Chris.”
I wanted to believe her.
