I stood quietly for a moment.
Then I said:
“You could have told me one sentence.”
He looked up.
“What?”
“I’m unhappy.”
He swallowed.
“That wouldn’t have solved everything.”
“No,” I answered. “But it would have given us the chance to deal with the truth.”
He said nothing.
I stepped around him.
This time, he let me go.
Just before I reached my car, he called after me.
“Claire, what am I supposed to tell people?”
I turned.
He was still wearing his blue running shirt.
Laura’s medal hung around his neck.
For some reason, the sight no longer made me angry.
It simply made me tired.
“Tell them the truth,” I answered.
Then I walked away.
***
I sat in my car for several minutes without turning on the engine.
People passed carrying water bottles and medals.
A little girl ran toward her mother holding a handmade sign.
