But Case didn’t move, and I wasn’t moving if he wasn’t moving. We don’t say anything as we lope through long carpeted hallways, the rows of doors standing to attention on both sides. I don’t tell them that’s the worst excuse I’ve ever heard, and I don’t tell him that the guy wasn’t the one who broke my heart in the first place. And I don’t tell him how much it hurt. I don’t tell him how little I still feel.