Ch. 12: A Door Left Open

There were things Nina had learned never to say aloud, and most of them were about she.

Money could buy a great many things, she had learned, but never the one thing that was wanted most. Money could buy a great many things, she had learned, but never the one thing that was wanted most.

"You shouldn't have come," she said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to. "I'm not asking you to forgive me," Nina said. "I'm asking you to listen." "You shouldn't have come," she said, and the words landed softer than they were meant to.

Nina crossed the room slowly, aware of every step, of the way she was watching without seeming to. For a heartbeat the careful distance between them thinned to nothing at all. There was a history between them that neither would name, written in the things they did not do.

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." Nina crossed the room slowly, aware of every step, of the way she was watching without seeming to.

There was a history between them that neither would name, written in the things they did not do. The conversation turned, the way conversations do, from the easy things to the ones that mattered. She remembered the first time, and the last, and all the ordinary days in between that had somehow mattered more.

She thought of all the versions of herself she might have been, and wondered which one he saw.