Velma shook her gray head. “I’m not supposed to let you in, I’m sorry,” she whispered.

So, he’d seen me drive up. This was going to be harder than I thought.

“Is he with someone?” I tried to peek inside, but Velma blocked me.

“Peter?” I called out. “It’s okay, I’m not mad or anything. Come on, I know you’re there. This is silly. I just want to talk to you.” I stepped inside.

“Now, now.” Velma patted me on the shoulder and attempted to escort me backward. “Go home, dear.”

“No, I… Peter!” I surged past her into the living room. “Peter!”

“Sorry, Mr. Hamlet.” Vilma followed wringing her hands.

He sat alone at the kitchen table, hair tousled from sleep, wearing the bathrobe I had bought him. A script lay open next to his coffee mug. God, I had forgotten just how beautiful he was. Especially in the morning before he shaved. I wished I were wearing something alluring, or at least changed out of gym clothes.

“Hi Petey,” I said, in the sweetest, least threatening voice I could muster.

“What do you want, Jackie?” His voice was monotone.

“I need to talk to you, it’s important.” I could feel a flush coming into my face and my heart raced.

Peter nodded at Velma, who scurried out of the room. He remained seated, waiting for me to continue, his face impassive.

I took a deep breath. “I-I wanted you to know that I might not have tried as hard as I could to be understanding, and I want to say I’m sorry.”

These were not exactly the words I’d planned.

Peter kept his eyes on me but didn’t respond. I cleared my throat.

“I wanted to ask, I mean…”

The questions I’d rehearsed in the car to help me find closure vanished from my mind, and instead what came out was, “I mean, maybe we could just date? Or, I don’t know…” I was way off track, but I couldn’t stop, “maybe you could see other people and I wouldn’t have to live here, but…” I was crying now.

Peter got up from the table. He moved toward me, and for a moment, I thought he was coming over to hold me. But he walked past me into the living room, opened the front door, and turned to me with dead eyes.

“Get out of my house, Jackie.”

“Petey, Pete! Don’t you have feelings for me anymore?” I grabbed his sleeve.

God, what was I doing?