"Hello, Maya," I said. My voice was polite, professional, like I was greeting a former vendor I no longer did business with.
She stood there clutching her purse. She looked at my coat, my calm demeanor, the lack of anger in my eyes.
"You look good," she said quietly.
"I am good," I replied. "I'm doing really well."
She let out a shaky breath. "I miss you, Mark. I know I messed up. I know I hurt you. But the punishment... it didn't fit the crime. I lost everything."
"You didn't lose everything," I corrected her gently. "You lost the things you didn't appreciate."
"Gavin was a mistake," she rushed on, her eyes filling with tears. "He was a predator. He used me. I see that now. I was just... I was looking for validation, and I looked in the wrong place. But we had three years, Mark. Doesn't that mean anything? Can't we just sit down and talk? I can fix this."
People were starting to look. The old Mark would have been embarrassed. The old Mark would have taken her outside, offered her a tissue, and listened to her spin her web. The new Mark just checked his watch.
"Maya," I said, "do you remember what you told me in the kitchen? You said if I didn't understand your needs, that was my issue."
She flinched. "I was angry. I didn't mean it."