“I’m sorry.”
“Well,” he said, with a disdainful exhale as he leaned back into the booth. “You should be.”
Overcome by an almost horrific level of shame, I clutched my napkin in my lap. I wanted to slide underneath the booth and crawl out of there. I couldn’t believe how I was acting. Gabe had no intention of letting me off easy.
He dragged his fingers up and down the side of the glass, smearing the condensation as he did.
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