Sorry

He stood in the kitchen for awhile longer and then went to the hall to bring all his purchases into the house. The ones from the kitchen store, he left in their bags and boxes for Meer to put away. He put away the few clothes he’d bought for himself, put all of Meer’s new shoes into the front closet, and then very quietly knocked on Meer’s door.

Meer didn’t answer.

Ken walked in anyway. Meer wasn’t asleep, but his back was to Ken. Ken hung the clothes up in Meer’s closet. When he turned around, Meer was sitting up, glaring at him.

“Well?” Meer demanded.

“What?”

“I hate you.”

“So you said before. What am I supposed to do about that?”

“You are so frustrating,” Meer said and flung himself to the bed.

Ken sighed, trying to understand Meer’s thoughts. “Are you hungry?”

“No. I’m never eating again. I’ll starve myself.”

“You love food too much to do that.”

“I don’t care.”

Ken sighed again. “What do you want me to say, Meer? What do you want me to do? Apologize? I wasn’t there. I didn’t—”

“Bu