Alexander rose too, but stayed where he was.
“Claire,” he said, “I’m sorry for what I did at the auction.”
I looked at him.
He did not look away.
“I know it hurt you,” he continued. “I should never have put you in that position.”
“Then why did you?”
He took a breath.
“I don’t have an answer that will make it acceptable.”
“Good,” I said quietly. “Because there isn’t one.”
He nodded.
I left without letting him walk me to the door.
Two days later, I agreed to a short visit at the lake house.
Daniel had advised me to keep the meeting brief and to tell a friend when it began and ended.
Alexander arrived with no flowers, no gifts, and no attempt to turn the visit into a grand gesture.
He brought a small paper bag containing two cups of tea from the café near my mother’s old neighborhood.
