Macy took a deep breath and headed toward the apartment. She wasn’t ready for this, nor did she want to do this. Macy knocked on the door, concentrating on not running.

When it was finally ajar, Macy couldn’t glance up, but she knew it was him. “Macy, come on in.â€? She sauntered in and knew the way so well there was really no need to look up.

They settled on separate couches and then, only then did Macy glaze to meet his eyes. “Shane. I need your help.â€? Macy whispered, wincing at his name.

“Yeah. So?â€? he replied, flicking specks off the old couch. “Why should I help?â€?

“Because I owe it to you.â€?

“You don’t owe me anything, Macy.â€? His deep, rumbling voice was beginning to give her bad memories.

“Please Shane.â€? She winced again as she spoke his name but tried not to let him see. No success.

Shane hissed sadly, “Did I cause you that much pain? I…I didn’t—“

But she cut him off, “Please. I can’t bear an apology, just help me. Please.”

He sighed. “Okay.â€?