Chapter 13 - THE MAN WHO CAME BACK DIFFERENT
Vincent called me in September.
“Elena.”
His voice was familiar.
Warm.
Careful.
I smiled despite myself.
“Hello, Vincent.”
He hesitated.
“Would you like to have coffee?”
I looked out my apartment window.
“Coffee?”
“Yes.”
“No expensive restaurant?”
“No.”
“No private dining room?”
“No.”
I laughed.
“Then okay.”
We met at a small café near the lake.
Vincent wore jeans and a dark sweater.
No security detail at the table.
No expensive watch.
No dramatic entrance.
Just a man who looked nervous.
I sat across from him.
“You look different.”
He smiled faintly.
“I feel different.”
We talked for two hours.
About work.
About Hannah.
About the nonprofit.
About the difficult choices he'd made.
He told me he'd started counseling.
That he was cooperating with legal proceedings.
That he was learning how to live without controlling every outcome.
I listened.
Then asked, “Why did you call?”
Vincent looked at me.
“Because I miss you.”
My heart tightened.
He continued.
“But I don't want you to feel responsible for what happens to me.”
I swallowed.
“And if I don't want to try again?”
He smiled sadly.
“Then I'll still be grateful I met you.”
I stared.
For the first time, I believed he meant it.
I reached across the table.
May you like
Took his hand.
And whispered, “Maybe we can start with coffee.”
