“My younger sister finally did.

She brought me a sandwich.

I remember that more than anything.”

I apologized again, without explaining why I couldn’t have done otherwise.

Blair accepted the apology, though she made clear that acceptance didn’t erase the hurt.

When the café closed, she stood and shook my hand, then laughed at how ridiculous it felt.

“We almost married for business reasons,” she said.

“Perhaps an honest handshake is progress.”