Salvatore DiMarco
It was killing me, her silence, the way she withdrew from me… it was something I couldn't bear much longer. I tried, and I swear, I did. I tried to give her space, to respect her boundaries, but I needed to know. She said that we would talk at home, so as soon as I pushed the door after me and locked it, I said, “Now we are going to talk.”
She looked up at me, her eyes getting glassy again, and I took a deep breath. I loved her, every little thing about her, but this broken, despairing side of her was making me ache. “Come here,” I reached out to her, slowly, as if I was trying to approach a wounded animal who would break at the minimum contact.
She allowed me to take the lead. She allowed me to hold her hand, walk her to the couch, and pull her to sit with me. I wr
