Page 74 of Yours, For Good

I pointed at the sofas to our side with a hand. "Please… take a seat. Do you need water? Something stronger? You can berate me all you want— I deserve it— but you look like you need—"

"Don't tell me what I need, Javier. Those letters were for my aging, white-haired, caring benefactor. Not for you!"

My hand stayed in place, asking her to let me know what she needed, hoping she'd find a place on one of the couches. Like it would make things easier somehow.

She lowered her chin and watched me from under the ridge of her eyebrows. "You sent me flowers last Fall and wrote that card— did you even write it yourself? Why did you send it?"

"Please, sit and we'll talk. I'll explain everything. Anything you want to know, I'll tell you."

"And why shouldn't I just turn around and leave?"

"No—" the hand that had pointed at the sofas whipped to her, palm out to beg for her to stay. "Please, don't go. You should get a chance to be livid and yell at me if you have to. You deserve to know every decision I made and why— not because it might erase what I did— I don't think it can be erased— but because you deserve to know everything."

Her nostrils flared as she studied me. The line of her mouth held tension I had never seen there before. It made me want to soothe, to shield her from it all, but I couldn't. I simply dropped my hand and waited once more.

She pursed her lips. "I'm staying because I want all the answers to my questions, not because you asked. And I want water because my throat is dry, not because you offered… and I may throw it in your face later, before I leave your house in a trail of fury."

"Of course. Got it."

She pointed at me again. "I will leave as soon as I'm ready."

"Absolutely."

She turned in a huff and sat on one of the sofas. When I came back with a glass of water, she leaned forward with her elbows on her knees, and her hands deep in her free, wavy hair.

Nora wore a black and white striped shirt and a pleated yellow-green skirt, which fanned on the cushions and down to the floor. She looked beautiful; she'd dressed up to meet Mr. B. only to find me in his place. The thought pulled my stomach down with guilt. I didn't think she would have come if I wrote as Javier, and I had needed to see her. Another half-deception to add to the list.

I put the glass of water on the coffee table, and sat down on the sofa across from her. She didn't move. After a few minutes of watching her and waiting for a million questions, I took the lead with one of the most important things I had to say.

"I am so sorry, Nora. I didn't mean to hurt you but I see how I did. Every step of the way I tried to do good by you… but the moment I decided to hide things, I took away your choice. You never got the opportunity to trust me with the things you told Mr. B. — I already knew. I took what I knew and used it to make decisions about us… about the friendship I hoped we could have, and you never had the same chance. I apologize. I'm so sorry."

I had to bite my tongue not to keep repeating the same few words of regret.

She didn't respond right away. When she did, she spoke through the curtain of her hair.

"Did you practice that?" she asked.

"What… the apology?"

"Yes. Did you practice it?"

I rubbed my lips together. "Yes. I wanted to get it right."

"Is there more to your apology speech?"

"Uhm… there's an offer to tell you how things happened, why I did what I did… there's also this."

She lifted her face just as I put a hand on the three notebooks I had left on the coffee table earlier.

"I don't know if you remember," I said, "but I journal every day. I mentioned it for New Years?"

She didn't make any gesture to answer my question, but continued to watch me carefully. Tension remained on her brow and on the lines of her mouth. It made it hard to breathe to see her like that; to know I had caused it, but I scratched it off the list of things that mattered at the time. My guilt wasn't a concern when I had Nora to take care of.

I pushed the notebooks an inch closer to her. "These three journals are where I wrote down my thoughts since before I met you. Since before I read your file at the John Grier Home and offered to sponsor you into the incubator."

She didn't seem inclined to take the journals. "Who knew? Does Julia know? Did Mister Griggs know when he opened the door for me?"

"No one knew. I didn't know Julia would be in the same group as you and I never told her. Griggs didn't know I met you as Javier— he would have flipped. I asked him to come here to talk about meeting you as Mister Smith. He disapproved, by the way."