Should I ask him now? I wondered to myself, staring at my boyfriend as he tried to explain to me how he played his cello. We were in his room, and I was sitting on his bed. His mood had improved over the week, and today he was as bright as a peach, so I wondered if I would just be a pushover if I brought up what happened that day in my room.
"Maxwell," I called out to him, making up my mind. I found myself taking a deep breath when he looked up from his instrument to stare at me. Biting my bottom lip, I adjusted my sitting position on his bed.
"That day you came into my room," I started, and I watched as his expression dulled, but I refused to back down. Maxwell needed to learn how to stop suppressing things, and generally how he felt. Right now, I knew he was trying to seem happy just f
