“There are things Nora needs to explain,” he said.
“You can explain them when we get home.”
His eyes filled.
I hated him for that.
For knowing.
For not pretending hard enough.
“Listen anyway.”
So I sat down.
“When your parents come, don’t argue with them at the door.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why would they come?”
He gave me a look almost like his old one.
“Because they’re predictable.”
“I can lock the door.”
“You can.
You don’t owe them entry.
But if you feel able, let them speak in front of the people who need to hear them.”
“What people?”
“Nora will arrange it.”
I shook my head.
“I don’t want a fight.”
“Then don’t give them one.”
His fingers pressed mine.
“You’ve spent your whole life wondering what you should say to make them love you.
You don’t have to find those words anymore.”
