Chapter 13: The Apology

Evan's video was three minutes long, and he had filmed it in his car.

He wore a clean polo and a sad little smile.

He said he and his girlfriend of three years had hit a rough patch.

He said I was under stress and had made "frightening decisions" with money that was partly his.

He said he forgave me.

Then he said he would wait outside my work on Monday morning with flowers, until I agreed to hear him out.

By Sunday night it had forty thousand views.

The top comment was the hotel hallway video, posted by a stranger, with the ring receipt freeze-framed.

"If he apologizes properly," Adam said on Monday, driving me to the dental office. "With everything he has. Would you hear it?"

His eyes stayed on the road.

"Is that what you think I do?" I asked.

He didn't answer.

The parking lot was already full of people at seven-thirty.

Evan stood by the front doors with two phones on tripods, a bouquet of forty red roses and a poster board that said I'M SORRY WENDY in marker.

Patients were slowing down on their way in, and two of my coworkers stood at the window with their coffee.

"Stay in the car," I told Adam.

"I'll be right here."

He rolled his window down and left the engine running.

Evan saw me and dropped to both knees on the asphalt.

"Wendy," he said, loud enough for the tripods. "I've been a coward and a fool."

The little red light on his phone blinked.

Live comments scrolled up the screen, too fast to read.

"HR called me in this morning," he said, and his voice cracked in the right place. "I lost my home. I don't care. I just want you to come home."

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