Thankfully, there was no awkwardness, argument fight or trigger. I just hope it stayed that way until our date ended. We kissed again briefly. Less intimate than the last one. When we pulled away, I cupped his face with my hand which he leaned in. I saw the saw cut that had healed but left a mark on the left end part of his eyebrow. Brushing it with my thumb, “what happened?” I asked concerned.
He glared at me for a second like I’d done, “tell me you don't remember being responsible for that.”
“Me?”
“Yeah. You. Smashing my a lamp on me.”
Remembering that incident, I giggled. That day when it happened, I felt strong. Only it didn't last long before my victory was overthrown.
We both walked hand in hand back toward the car, and I wasn’t sure what would happen when we got back to his ho
