IVA
I scrambled for the door, my hands shaking as I pulled it open, but then his voice came from behind me, low and pleading.
“Iva… don’t go. Please.”
I stopped, every nerve in my body on fire, the door still open in my grasp. Forcing my voice to steady, I swallowed hard. “I came to check if you were okay. Which you are… so I have to leave.”
I felt him walk up behind me, his presence like heat against my back. But he didn’t respond with words. Instead, he reached out and gently took the hand I was holding the door open with and turned me around to face him.
“How do you know?” he whispered, “when you won’t even look at me?”
“I did look at you.” My voice was barely more than breath--weak, affected by how close he was, how much I wanted to turn around and hold him, and how much I was af
