He misunderstands. I’m not sad for what I just did. I’m sad because he’s out of my reach. He swallows. “Shit, don’t break up with him. I shouldn’t have said that. He’s good. He’ll treat you right.” Then, “Just stay away from me,” he pushes out, his voice gravelly and rough as he puts his back to me, and I sense him gathering himself, fortifying, building up his force field.
