Thursday, 11 April 2013

Saying sorry doesn't solve the problem. (Drake)

“Nicky,” I whispered.

The magic melted away.

“What do you want?”

The sun ducked behind the buildings and darkness closed in quickly.

“What’s wrong?”

He started walking again.

With furrowed eyebrows, I instructed the driver to edge forward with him. “Nicky, it’s me. It’s Honey. Don’t you remember?”

“I remember you.”

“Nicky, I’m sorry about William and I’m sorry about everything.”

I was apologizing. I was begging. I was disgusted with myself.

“What the hell, Nicky! Who do you think you are?” I laughed.

He stopped and somehow I knew I had him where I wanted him. That kid’s parents really did a number on him. He ignores the girl pleading for his approval but climbs into the backseat of the girl who belittles him. Bravo Mama and Papa Martinez, really, top shelf job!

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