“But… you can’t deny, Dini, that you’ve become, um, very into your volunteers”
Dini browsed the aisles of Fox Home, fingering a set of napkin rings, a large scented candle, and some decorative dishtowels. Somehow, none of them said, “I’m sorry for breaking your trust and leaking the news about your husband’s fatal disease.”
Dini’s eyebrows creased as she contemplated a poufy throw pillow. Sending you a hug? She made a face; Bracha would hate such a corny line.
She sighed. Maybe she was in the wrong store. Maybe she didn’t know Bracha well enough to know what apology gift would make her melt.
Or maybe she was wondering why she was apologizing for something she didn’t do.
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