Tanis' question made Sinead's pulse skyrocket. Tanis had barely said anything, and yet Sinead's heart did a flip, her hopes too high too quickly. It was stupid and juvenile and utterly pitiful.<br/>"No," Sinead admitted timidly. It felt like a coversation that commanded total silence, but the diner made for a loud backdrop between the coffee kettle and the buzzing of a radio. Sinead could barely hear her own thoughts.<br/>"You didn't mess up anything."<br/>The repetition brought a different heft to the words, even though Sinead had barely changed her infliction. She had spent an awful day, but she knew she should feel ashamed at how quickly that hurt seemed to ease with each word Tanis' spoke.<br/>Having to bring herself and her expectations back to reality, she finally glanced down at her plate. Even though she should have offered Tanis the same question, she had asked her, Sinead wasn't sure if she could face the possible replies.<br/>Instead, she spoke a broader, "I'm sorry if I overstepped."