I See You
On the way back to the house, he never asks me what happened. He only sits quietly, looking over at me every now and then as I stare out the window, trying to put my thoughts in the order of how I can explain things to him. Getting back to the house, I hesitate to get out of the car, but he comes around, opens my door, and holds his hand out to me again. When he helps me out of the car, he takes that opportunity to move a little closer and brush a stray curl away from my eye. “How about I make you something to eat? I make a great grilled cheese.” He smiles, and I remember the last one he made. I think it might be the only thing he can make, and the thought makes me smile despite my nerves. “No, we should just talk,” I utter slowly and move around him to go into the house. He doesn’t re
- Writer
