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But she doesn’t look away this time.
Progress.
“From him,” I say.
Not a question.
She exhales slowly.
“Yes.”
The room feels tighter now.
More focused.
“By pushing me out?” I ask.
“By limiting exposure,” she corrects.
“That’s the same thing.”
“No, it’s not.”
“It is to me.”
That lands.
Different this time.
Because I’m not talking strategy.
I’m talking about her.
About us.
“You think distance protects me,” I continue.
“Yes.”
“You’re wrong.”
Her eyes flash.
“You don’t know that.”
“I do.”
“How?”
Because I know you.
Because I see what he’s doing.
Because I’m not going anywhere.
I step closer.
Close enough now that there’s no space left for misinterpretation.
