She walked out of the bathroom dripping wet, unguarded, trusting me.
One sentence later, I shattered that trust. My “joke” about the neighbors slamming their curtains wasn’t funny when I saw her face fall, her shoulders tense, her eyes search mine for something gentler.
The room went quiet. The air changed. And in that silence, I realized I hadn’t just made her laugh—I’d made her smal… Continues…
