Minutes later, I heard a knock on the door.
"Mina….Mina, please open the door." His voice was quiet, and I stayed silent, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor with my back against the door, staring into my empty bedroom.
He knocked again, more gently. "Mina, I can hear you. I know you're there. Please open the door. Let's talk."
I still didn’t respond. There was a long sigh, and then I sensed he, too, had sat down on the other side of the door. The faint thud of his head resting against it was barely audible, but I knew he was there, just inches away, separated by the door.
"I'm sorry, Mina," he said quietly. "There are things I wish I could tell you, but I don’t think you’re ready to hear them yet. Sometimes, when you do things, I let my jealousy get the best of me, and I end
