She’d been dusting in the bedroom when it happened.
They argued. One thing had led to another and they argued. He ended up raising his voice and being unashamedly nasty. It wasn’t like him at all and it only took a moment or two, making his way back out into the garden, to realise this. He felt quite ashamed of what he said. He went straight back.
He pushed the door open gently and went in.
“That was rude of me. I’m sorry,” he said.
She shrugged. “Me too.”
“No need to be, I shouldn’t have been so aggressive.”
She smiled. “Yes, I know that. It’s the reason why I’m sorry.”
“Come again?”
“It’s the reason I’m sorry,” she repeated.
He frowned. “I don’t understand.”
“I’m just saying I’m sorry that you said something that you feel you need to apologize for.”
He sighed. “So, if you are still sorry, I presume that you haven’t really accepted my apology.”
“No, you misunderstand. I have; I have completely accepted your apology.”
He shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense.”
“Yes it does,” she replied.
After a moment, he said, “Tell me how it could make sense when you consider that you said you were still sorry about it after I had apologised. That has to mean that you haven’t accepted my apology.”
“Well, yes, you’re right. I didn’t really accept your apology until I told you I was sorry about it.”
“OK. So, everything’s OK then?”
“Yes, fine.”
“That’s good. I really am…” he stopped himself, throwing his hands up in a gesture of surrender.
He closed the door quietly.
