DEA
I swallowed and thought very hard for a while.
I stared down at the black liquid in my mug, feeling somewhat sick in the stomach.
My mother's question just forced me to face the things that I'm shoving at my back.
“Mom, I don't love him.”
My voice came out steadier than I felt, but I kept my eyes on the table, afraid she’d see through me too easily.
“That word is just too strong to describe my feelings for him.
She didn’t react immediately. She simply adjusted the shawl around her shoulders and watched me with that knowing look she’s always had.
I'm her daughter. One look at me and she already knows the answer to her question but I don't have the courage to admit that because I'm not even ready to admit that to myself.
“I didn't say you love him. I just asked if you love him.
