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Leon set the plate and utensil aside on a counter.
How was he supposed to say what he had to say without sounding ungrateful? How was he supposed to explain the burning anger that still pulsed through his veins in a way they would understand?
Riker stood. “…This doesn’t have to change anything. I helped Leon this time, but I didn’t help him the first time…I killed his wife, and neither of us will forget that.”
Leon merely raised an eyebrow. What was Riker-?
Riker stepped around the table. His dark blue eyes met Leon’s brown. “What I mean is you don’t have to forgive me…you don’t have to feel like you have to forgive me. I understand, and your hatred is justified…I’d hate me too.”
Was it some kind of trick? Did he want Leon to feel bad for him?
But there was sincerity in Riker’s eyes…a sincerity Leon couldn’t deny. Slowly, carefully, Leon extended a hand. “Then it’s agreed?”
Riker took his offered hand and gently shook it. “It’s agreed.” He glanced around at Isaiah and Isaiah’s family. “Thank you, Isaiah, Miriam, Yosef, Adela…but I need to return home. And Leon, I hope you recover quickly.” Riker turned on his heel and left the room; the front door closed behind him.
Leon released a deep breath. He gently rubbed the back of his neck. The agreement was sincere…Leon didn’t have to forgive Riker for what he’d done.
Riker had helped him, more than once.
But Leon still couldn’t forgive him for what he’d done to Aadelheide. He just…he couldn’t.