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smile in his voice. “You spilled a whole pan full of paint,” I say.
    “Because you bumped the ladder,” he says.
    “I did not. You saw a spider in the corner and jumped off the ladder so fast, everything went flying.”
    A chuckle. “Well, it was a big spider.”
    I snicker. “We’ve had some good times.”
    He’s quiet. When I glance over, his shoulders are slumped, that little muscle at the corner of his jaw is jumping.
    “What’s wrong, David?”
    He continues to paint, eyes tracing the swaths of color onto the wall as they appear from the end of his roller.
    “If something’s wrong, I wish you’d tell me.”
    His hand pauses in mid-stroke. “Nothing’s wrong.”
    David keeps painting, pushing the roller back and forth. I’ve stopped painting now and turn to face him. “That’s bullshit, David. What is it?”
    The silence stretches on. I don’t take my eyes off him, fixing him with what I hope is a laser stare until finally he gives in with a growl.
    “You’ve never forgiven me.”
    My stomach does a small roll. I know exactly where this is coming from. What I did this morning, going after that skip alone, has awakened the dragon. Angry at myself, I blurt, “That’s because there’s nothing to forgive.”
    He lays the paint roller down in the pan and wipes his hands slowly and deliberately with a rag. “You know that’s not true. Because of me, you were raped and beaten and left to die.”
    His words are sharp, enunciated carefully with bitter recrimination as he continues.
    “Because of me, your life changed. You’ve had one boyfriend after another. Your family lives halfway around the world. I don’t ever see you with friends. I don’t ever see you out of the office. You’re not the same. And it’s because of me.”
    I can’t look at him. My heart aches and my mind is full of things I
want
to say. Things I should say.
    Things I can’t say.
    I release a long breath, put my paintbrush down alongside his. My hands are trembling when I turn to face him.
    “You’re right. My life changed that night. But not because of anything you did.”
    “Because I did nothing,” he retorts bitterly. “I was knocked out. Like a fucking amateur. And Donaldson beat you and raped you and would have killed you if someone from that bar hadn’t come out to stop him. I don’t know how you can stand to look at me. I walk into the office every morning expecting to find your letter of resignation. You should hate me, Anna. It’s what I deserve.”
    He’s still looking down at his hands, rubbing them with that rag as if they were the last year and a half and if he scrubbed hard enough, he could wipe them out of existence.
    I put my hands over his to stop it. “David.” He won’t look at me. I take his chin in my hand and lift his face. “None of what happened with Donaldson was your fault. He was on PCP, remember? He surprised both of us. I got over it. I wish you would. It almost sounds as if it would be better for you if I left. Is that really what this is about? You have Tracey now. She’s a good partner. Do you want me to go?”
    He closes his eyes. “God, no, Anna. The business wouldn’t be the same without you. It’s just—”
    “Then stop. If you want me to say the words, I will. I forgive you. I fucking forgive you. But you know I don’t mean it because in my heart, there’s nothing to forgive.”
    That gets a tiny smile from David. The tension breaks. “You make me feel so much better.”
    I grin, so relieved my knees feel shaky. “It’s what I live for. Listen, I know we don’t do all the things we used to. It’s not because I don’t want to, it’s because we lead complicated lives. You know all that’s happened. First there was Trish and her bitch mother. Then there was all the drama with Gloria. My folks inheriting a winery. You getting kidnapped. I admit my love life hasn’t been the most stable. But neither has yours. I think we both have a real chance now at getting it