Ch. 3: What She Didn't Say

He noticed her before she noticed him, which was usually how the worst trouble began.

There was a history between them that neither would name, written in the things they did not do. For a heartbeat the careful distance between them thinned to nothing at all. For a heartbeat the careful distance between them thinned to nothing at all.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me," Nina said. "I'm asking you to listen." For a heartbeat the careful distance between them thinned to nothing at all. There was a history between them that neither would name, written in the things they did not do.

Nina crossed the room slowly, aware of every step, of the way he was watching without seeming to. She remembered the first time, and the last, and all the ordinary days in between that had somehow mattered more.

She thought of all the versions of herself she might have been, and wondered which one he saw.

She remembered the first time, and the last, and all the ordinary days in between that had somehow mattered more. The conversation turned, the way conversations do, from the easy things to the ones that mattered.

Tomorrow would ask its questions. Tonight, she let herself simply breathe.