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“I don’t believe you.”

Her eyes flash.

“That’s not my problem.”

The words are sharp enough that I go still. Blaire looks down at her plate. When she speaks again, her voice is quieter.

“I enjoyed these past few weeks.”

I say nothing.

“I enjoyed the Cotswolds.”

My chest tightens.

“I let myself get carried away.”

“Carried away?” I say.

“Yes.”

I stare at her. She looks miserable. That makes no sense with the words coming out of her mouth. I lean forward again.

“Is this revenge?”

Her head lifts.

“What?”

“For what I did to you.”

“No.”

“I know what I did was wrong. I’ve told you that. I’d tell you again if I thought it would change anything.”

“It’s not about revenge.”

“Then stop talking to me like you’re trying to punish me.”

Her face changes.

“I’m not punishing you.”

“Then why does this feel like you’re forcing yourself to say every word?”

She looks away. I know I’m right. I can see it in her face.

“Blaire,” I say.

She reaches for her napkin and places it beside her plate.

“I need to go.”

“We’re not finished.”

“I am.”

She reaches for her purse.