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Not what he said.
What he didn't.
He still has not told me he loves me.
I know now.
Or I think I know.
But he is not putting it on me while I am still deciding what to do with everything else.
“He's really gone?”
“Yeah.”
“Forever?”
“Yeah.”
My eyes burn.
I hate that.
Bitter notices.
Does nothing.
Good.
I stare at the dirt near his boots.
“I slept last night.”
His face changes. “Good.”
“All night.”
He nods once.
I take a breath. “I don't know what that says about me.”
“It says you were tired.”
“That's convenient.”
“Sweet.”
I look up.
“You don't owe anybody grief for Razor.”
My throat tightens.
“You don't owe me approval either.”
Room.
He keeps giving me room.
