“You haven’t paid back a single cent.”
“Then explain it.”
“I will.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
George frowned.
Pete lowered his gaze.
“I can’t.”
George pushed his chair away from the table.
“You invite us over, tell me something that makes absolutely no sense, and then expect me to wait?”
“I know how it sounds.”
“It sounds like another excuse.”
Pete looked genuinely wounded.
George laughed bitterly.
“Trust is exactly what you’ve spent 11 years destroying.”
Nancy placed one hand gently on her husband’s shoulder.
Pete covered it with his own but remained silent.
Tears gathered in Nancy’s eyes.
She quickly turned away.
Neither brother spoke again before we left.
The drive home was painfully quiet.
Eventually, I asked, “What do you think he meant?”
George kept his eyes fixed on the road.
“I have no idea.”
“You don’t believe him.”
“No.”
His grip tightened around the steering wheel.
“If he had proof, he’d have shown it.”
I could not disagree.
For the following week, neither of us mentioned the dinner.
We barely spoke about Pete at all.
Then one evening, my phone rang.
His voice sounded entirely different.
Broken.
“Angie…”
My stomach tightened.
“What happened?”
A long silence followed.
I could not speak.
Only a week earlier, Nancy had been serving us coffee.
