He never comes in, and he never looks at me. But right now, he is, and it has me squirming under his attention. There’s also a little part of me that feels like this is a step toward forgiveness. Like maybe he can finally stand the sight of me again. And the prospect of that makes me feel almost relieved. Like a weight lifts from my shoulders because I can’t stand the thought of anyone—especially him—disliking me.
