Ch. 12: A Door Left Open

The letter had arrived without a name, and that was the first thing that frightened her.

"You shouldn't have come," he said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to. The conversation turned, the way conversations do, from the easy things to the ones that mattered.

The conversation turned, the way conversations do, from the easy things to the ones that mattered. There was a history between them that neither would name, written in the things they did not do. Money could buy a great many things, he had learned, but never the one thing that was wanted most.

The conversation turned, the way conversations do, from the easy things to the ones that mattered. "I'm not asking you to forgive me," Nina said. "I'm asking you to listen."

Every choice had a price. Nina had known that for years, and still the knowing never made it easier.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me," Nina said. "I'm asking you to listen." Money could buy a great many things, he had learned, but never the one thing that was wanted most.

For a heartbeat the careful distance between them thinned to nothing at all. "I'm not asking you to forgive me," Nina said. "I'm asking you to listen." For a heartbeat the careful distance between them thinned to nothing at all.