Our lighthearted conversation inadvertently takes a turn. I can see she regrets her question before she even finishes asking. I was hoping to avoid this topic forever, but I also don't like how the thought of me with other girls affects her, so I know I have to come clean.
I don't know why I feel the way I do about the answer when I know it will make her happy.
I shake my head and say, "I don't know why telling you the answer to that is so hard."
She looks down, and I feel her stiffen a bit before she says, "Don't worry. You don't have to say anything, you had a life before you met me and, by your own account, you thought your mate was dead."
I stop our progress and face her towards me, placing my hands on her shoulders. I don't want her feeling this way, especially when there is no re
