“No.”
“That’s what I told them.”
“Good.”
Friday brought a second proposal.
Better, but still short on the tuition contribution calculation.
Ruth and I went through it again.
“They’re getting closer,” she said.
“I think one more counter does it.”
“Then let’s send it.”
The final counter went out Friday at four o’clock.
I spent the weekend trying not to watch my phone.
I cleaned the apartment.
I returned calls I had been putting off.
I called my mother, who knew only that Nathan and I were separating and who asked careful questions that I answered carefully.
On Sunday evening, Daniel called.
“Have you heard from Nathan directly?” he asked.
“No.
Everything is going through Ruth.”
“He came to see me yesterday,” Daniel said.
“At my apartment.”
I sat down.
“What did he say?”
“He wanted to know how much Mia had told me.
And he wanted to know—” Daniel paused.
“He wanted to know if there was any way to keep the licensing board out of it.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him that wasn’t my decision to make.”
“Good.”
“He also said something I thought you should know.” Another pause.
“He said he was sorry.
