Oh, God. Not again. Not another earth-shattering revelation, or another cataclysmic decision. If what Geoffrey made on a mind-numbingly frequent basis could be called “decisions.” They were more like whims.
“What is it … now?” Donnie said. He wondered what it would be. Was Geoffrey leaving again? Had he resumed the relationship with the skanky Noel? Had he stolen from someone? Did he have an incurable disease? Had he found something out about that one time in …
Geoffrey’s mouth quivered and his eyes watered up. Donnie stared at him and he turned away.
“Come on, Geoff, nothing can be that bad. What is it, what is it sweetheart?” Geoffrey never cried.
Geoffrey turned around, sucked his breath in, and looked at Donnie, the tears coming down his face …
“I can’t tell you,” he said and ran past Donnie. He opened the door and ran out. “I just can’t tell you.”
Damn, Donnie thought. Another mystery prolonged.
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