Sunk in his thoughts, nursing the diary, he didn't hear when Browning arrived with his mother and Naylor showed her in, tactfully closing the door between them and their self-conscious audience. Alex scrubbed at his face and hauled himself from the chair.
'You look tired.'
He hadn't seen her in a year.
'You look well.'
'Considering what you've put me through.'
It had always been tough getting past the chain mail. He'd stopped trying years ago. He simply said, 'I'm sorry.'
Her mouth tightened. 'Jack has been busy explaining and offering excuses for you. I don't know why, but I would have expected you not to subject me to this. I would have thought you could have given a thought to my feelings, to have trusted me.'
It was all so familiar.
'I didn't think it would bother you that much.'
'Bother me.' Her voice shook. 'I'm told that my son, my only child, is dead, and you didn't think it would bother me.'
'Based on past experience.'
There would be no reconciliation.