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The Wyoming Kid
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“I…I…”
“The least you can do is apologize.” Della’s fingers gripped the cart handle.
“I tried.” He motioned helplessly.
“You didn’t try hard enough.” With that Della sped away, her children in tow. The little girl marched to the end of the aisle, then turned back and stuck out her tongue at him.
A sick feeling attacked the pit of his stomach. He should’ve known better. He’d already decided not to pursue a relationship with Joy and then, next thing he knew, he was inviting her for dinner. A lot of good that had done him.
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