I think she slept with him. I saw, when I first told her, a flash in her eyes that she immediately snapped shut. A flash I now associate with the bubbling of her darkness. She inspected me, saw, decided secrets were best. She will never tell me. Secrets are a shield for her. But I think she has been kissed by those same lips.

I’d feel a perfect fool if that were true. I can still smell the scent of that house.

I wish we could laugh together, about our rough pasts and the feel of his skin.