I wanted to accept what I was hearing, but my cynical side didn’t trust it. “You came . . . to apologize?”

He stopped pacing. “Yeah.”

“Why?”

My simple inquiry stopped him totally, judging by his astonished appearance. “What?”

“Why?” I repeated. “Why do you feel the need to apologize?”

He stared at me like I was losing my mind. “You don’t believe I did anything wrong?”

I uttered a stiff, humorless chuckle, but agony shot through my incisions. “No, I do. What I mean is, coming here and saying this isn’t exactly pleasant for you. You could get away with not doing it. So, why are you?” Like most...