“I told you.”
“Because walking away and being pushed away are different.”
“Yes.”
“That’s not the whole answer.”
I looked at him.
He waited.
No smirk.
No challenge.
Just curiosity.
I sighed.
“Because I’ve spent most of my life knowing when to ignore somebody.”
“And?”
“And I’m still learning when ignoring someone teaches them the wrong lesson.”
Ethan absorbed that.
“I thought you were scared.”
“I know.”
“That was stupid.”
“A little.”
“I thought if I kept pushing, eventually you’d either prove yourself or admit you couldn’t.”
“That was very stupid.”
“Okay. I’m trying to apologize.”
I smiled.
“Continue.”
He looked genuinely uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry.”
Simple.
No explanation.
No joke.
“I accept.”
His shoulders relaxed.
“Really?”
“Yes.”
“That was easier than expected.”
“Would you prefer paperwork?”
He laughed.
Then stood.
“Good night, Victoria.”
“Good night.”
He started toward his house.
“Ethan.”
He turned.
“The donation.”
“Yes?”
“Call Marjorie tomorrow.”
“Why?”
“Ask whether the veterans fund has any programs connected to coaching, fitness, or transition support.”
His brow furrowed.
“You’re suggesting what?”
“I’m suggesting you find out where your money is going before you decide what losing it means.”
He stared at me.
