“I want to see you again, Samantha,” I say.
“I—”
“Let me take you out sometime this week.”
She looks down. She slips her hand out of mine. “I’m sorry, Ethan. I can’t.”
“You don’t want to, or you can’t?”
“I’m sorry.” She opens her car door and gets in without meeting my eyes. And I just keep standing there, watching, as she backs up and drives off. What just happened? Where did I go wrong? Damn it. Damn it.
I’m never going to forgive myself if I just fucked this up.