He had not even moved the cane. He just made her stay there, bent over like some errant 1940s schoolgirl and wait.
She had been quiet, not wanting him to start, heart beat so heavy and loud that she thought it vibrated through her entire body and connected with the cane behind her.
He spoke first.
“You lied.”
“No, I didn’t. I just tried to tell you the truth and it did not come out right.”
“So you lied.”
“You make it sound so awful. I just was shy. I was ashamed.”
“So you lied.”
“I thought you’d give up on me. I thought you would say I wasn’t even trying.”
“So you lied.”
“Yes. I lied. What are you going to do?”
“I am about to make you sorry.”
“But I already am sorry.”
“No. Trust me. You’re not sorry yet. But you will be.”
And as she gripped the chair legs she felt the thin strip of wood leave her cool cheeks …
