"Oh," I said. "You frightened me. Are you alright? Don't cut yourself.""I won't."He crouched down. I heard him gathering the pieces, the small clink of glass against glass, unhurried, and I sat frozen in the chair with my heart slamming so hard I was sure he could hear it, and I kept my face blind and my hands folded and I waited for him to say it.He didn't say it.He picked up every shard, slow and careful, and he stood, and he set the pieces somewhere on the desk, and he sat back down, and he continued the conversation."So the summer," he said. "I was thinking about the lake for a few weeks. The girls loved it last time."I could barely hear him over the roaring in my own ears."That sounds nice," I said. My voice came out almost steady. Almost. "They'd like that.""They would." A pause. "I'll make the arrangements."And that was all. He talked another few minutes about nothing, camps and dates and a swimming instructor, calm, pleasant, terrible, and I answered in my blind mild
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