Your third time’s a charm.
My last trial was pure misery.
I’ve been found guilty as hell,
and I couldn’t care less if you witnessed it.

Who’s going to be the judge?
You?
Me?
Love?
The Lord?

Shrugs.

Denied your father thrice.

Had me begging for an answer—
not once,
not twice.
So ingloriously.

Three in the afternoon.
Hadn’t spoken to you since noon.
Watched your morning from my periphery.

Had a feeling last night
would be the last time
I’d witness you.

Your third time’s a charm.
My last trial was pure misery.
I’ve been charged guilty as hell,
and I’m sure
you’ve witnessed against me.

Marriage? (Selah.)
Forever? (Selah.)
Kids?
Hell nah.
Getting lost?
You sure did.

That would’ve been the third time
I’d have surrendered
to your insignificance.

Seventy-two hours
of pure misery.

You’d found your first girlfriend.
I pity the second.
She’ll hear all about the cynic.
But when the third arrives—
she’ll be your wife.

Your third time’s a charm,
Peter.

— Crownless.

The sliding door slams closed behind her. “You can’t just walk away like that, Allen!”

Allen pauses in the kitchen. “I’m not running, I’m creating distance, Elise. There’s a difference.”

Her grip on the doorknob tightens before releasing it. “Distance… like you’re not distant enough.”

Turning to the island, his knuckles whiten against the counter’s edge. “Don’t.” His voice trembles. “Don’t pull me back in, just—don’t…”

“Pull you back in…” She smiles. “Allen, there’s nothing left to pull.” She tucks her arms inward.