We sat across from each other, the coffee table a neutral zone, laden with the remnants of her morning tea.
It felt like a negotiation, each of us hesitant to make the first move.
I took a deep breath, willing my voice to remain steady.
“About yesterday,” I began, searching for the right words.
She looked at me, her expression unreadable, and for a moment, I feared the conversation would end before it began.
But then she sighed, a soft exhale that seemed to carry years of unspoken tension.
“I didn’t mean for it to happen like that,” she said, her voice quiet.
It wasn’t an apology, but it was a start, a crack in the wall of silence.
“Why then? What were you thinking?”
My questions spilled out, each one a piece of the puzzle I was trying to assemble.
