He nodded again.

It was the first conversation we’d had in months in which he accepted an answer without searching for a way around it.

We stood when my half hour was over.

He asked whether he could hug me.

I said no, and he respected it.

As I walked toward the car, I felt sadness, relief, and a small unexpected tenderness for the younger versions of us who had once promised more than we understood.

I did not need to hate that memory to choose a different future.