CONTESSA DOESN’T UNDERSTAND APOLOGIES
Added 2025-03-14 08:00:09 +0000 UTCThe diner was quieter than usual. The lunch rush had come and gone, leaving only a few lingering customers and the low hum of the radio in the background.
Contessa sat across from Maggie, her hands resting neatly on the table. Between them sat a half-empty coffee cup, its surface cooling.
Maggie sighed, rubbing her temple. “You can’t just say stuff like that, hon.”
Contessa blinked. “It was the truth.”
“Yeah, but sometimes the truth stings.” Maggie replied, shaking her head. “Look, I know you don’t mean to be harsh, but when you told Mr. Dempsey his son’s decision was ‘statistically unsound,’ it kinda sounded like you were calling him an idiot.”
Contessa considered this. “That was not my intent.”
“I know.” Maggie said, leaning forward and tapping her fingers against her cup. “But sometimes? People don’t want logic. They want kindness. Even when things don’t make sense, they want to hear that you understand.”
Contessa glanced toward the counter. Mr. Dempsey was still there, staring out the window, his expression distant.
She turned back to Maggie. “What is the appropriate course of action?”
Maggie gave her a small smile. “You go over there, and you say you’re sorry.”
Contessa hesitated. Apologies were not something she often gave. In Cauldron, mistakes were corrected, not regretted.
But this wasn’t Cauldron.
She stood, walked over to Mr. Dempsey’s booth, and sat down. He glanced at her, eyebrows raised.
“I did not intend to cause offense,” she said. “I apologize.”
The old man studied her for a moment, then let out a small, tired laugh. “You got a way with words, I’ll give you that.”
She didn’t quite understand what he meant, but he no longer seemed upset. That was enough.
When she returned to the table, Maggie nudged her foot under the table. “See? Not so hard.”
Contessa took a sip of her coffee. It had gone cold.
She set it down and let it be.
