But it’s clear.
Behind her eyes, tears threaten.
She refuses to let them fall.
Another camera flash.
She steps back.
Distance created.
“I can’t do this,” she says. “Not like this.”
The hallway noise swells.
I don’t reach for her again.
Because I see it now.
She’s not pushing me away because she doesn’t feel it.
She’s pushing me away because she feels too much.
And the world is watching.
I nod once.
Slow.
“Okay.”
That surprises her.
Maybe she expected a fight.
I don’t give her one.
“If that’s what you want,” I say evenly, “I’ll leave you alone.”
It feels like swallowing glass.
She turns before the tears spill.
Walks away fast.
Phones follow.
I stand there a second longer than I should.
Then I walk the other direction.
Because the only thing worse than losing her?—
Would be making her smaller.
And I won’t be that guy again.
