Bryan brought his truck to a stop at the side of the road, just before the old wooden bridge that ran across Pike River. He shifted into park and glared over at Diane.

“I said I was sorry,” Diane said.

“I know,” Bryan said.

Bryan stared out the windshield and off at the dusty road.

“You said it enough times,” Bryan said. “You were sorry when you dropped my camera in the river. You were sorry when you left my cell phone at the gas station. And you were sorry when you left my $100 jacket out in the rain.”

Diane didn’t reply.

“Out,” Bryan said.

Diane obeyed. She wasn’t going to argue. She felt bad about her forgetfulness, and she knew that giving Bryan what he wanted would make him—and her—feel a lot better. Still, she didn’t want to give in to him without a fight.

Diane hopped out of the truck and walked around the front towards the driver’s door. Bryan emerged from the truck and slammed the door shut.

“So where do we do this?” Diane asked.

“Under the bridge,” Bryan said.

Diane carefully treaded down the steep hill towards the riverbank, underneath the old rickety bridge. Bryan followed, and tugged her by her arm out of view of the main road.

“Bryan, listen,” Diane said. “I know I’ve been irresponsible. I know I’ve really ticked you off a lot this past month—but do you really think this is the best way to go about it?”

Bryan wasn’t up for an argument.

“I want you to know I’m not fooling around, Diane,” he said. “You are making expensive mistakes. And since you’re not the one pulling in the paycheck every week, it’s up to me to put some sense into you.”