ARIA
The talk from the night before stayed stuck in my chest like I had swallowed a rock.
I kept replaying it while I folded towels in the laundry room the next morning. Damian had listened. He hadn't laughed or told me I was crazy. He just said I wasn't imagining it and that I was safe. But he hadn't given me any real answers.
I needed to know more.
That evening I went to his bedroom again. The door was slightly open, so I pushed it and stepped inside. He was standing by the window in a black t-shirt and sweatpants, looking out at the dark trees like they owed him money.
He turned when he heard me.
We didn't waste time on small talk this time.
I told him I couldn't keep pretending everything was fine. I repeated everything again, in case he had forgotten.
Damian
