Chapter Ten
Steven is not exactly pacing, though he moves through his apartment living room, carrying the heavy weight of my recent revelations like an anchor, which will keep us motionless on our restless sea. He walks to the blinds and peers out, then turns the slats to darken the room. They set a grim, forbidding mood.
As if his mind is an open book, I can tell he's deciding what to do as he restively tidies his private space. He picks up a stack of magazines. I expect him to move them from the coffee table to the trash, but instead, he suddenly slams them down on the table so hard that I fear the force will break the glass top.
"Damn it!" He looks at me. "What do you need from me, Michelle?"
"I need to end this… this impasse," I cry.
"And how does that happen? How do I feel better
