They met at a café with windows that made the morning look braver. Sarah wore the blue hoodie. Her hair was pulled back like she’d made room for a different outcome than the one she’d feared.
“I didn’t disappear,” she said before he could. “I removed myself from the part where I’m the punchline.” He nodded. “I built that part,” he said. “I’ll tear it down.”
He didn’t try for a joke. He didn’t try for tears. He tried for accuracy and respect, which sounds boring until you’ve lived without them awhile.
