Page 83 of Open for Negotiation
The next evening, explodes with very angry, very upset text messages from Miranda that I promptly ignore.
Miranda: Max, I’m sorry.
Miranda: Don’t do this.
Miranda: Maxie.
Miranda: I need you.
Miranda: Don’t leave me.
Miranda: Don’t.
Miranda: Answer me, now!
Miranda: I’m so sorry.
Miranda: Please don’t hate me.
Miranda: Don’t be like everyone else.
The messages twist at the small part of my heart that still hurts for the broken, sick woman she is in her heart, but I can’t pity her anymore.
This has to end here.
