he was still a lot more polite than the others, especially that officious man Oliver Lyons, who was basically quite rude.
[...] Minor regrets, like asking that woman Margaret whether she played chess, horrible, and major regrets like declining or rather failing to say anything at his own father’s funeral. Major regrets like devoting his life to competitive chess only to watch his rating drop steadily over several year…
“That guy has been writing you. It sort of hurts my feelings.” He paused, figuring out what to say. “People like you, you know, Claire,” he said. “They love you.”
“I know,” I said. Even though I didn’t really believe him.
“It’s okay to have secrets,” he said. “Just be careful.”
I cried a l…
The beignet sat leaden in my stomach. I thought, perhaps not entirely illogically, of dinner parties I would not be invited to as a single woman. The expense of a setting up a second household. Changing the batteries in the smoke alarm. The empty bed. All that old business. At the same time, I felt…
