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The Sin of Silence

Alex flipped through his book stoically, eyes anchored to the middle of each page. Lips pursed, eyes squinted; his hands practically shaking with anger. Certainly not reading.
I leaned over the side of my chair, and inhaled sharply— but I caught myself before I said anything. Not even a whisper in The Silent Section.
In desperation, I lowered myself into the safety of the canvas cushions, watching the ghosts of expressions flicker across his face. When he spoke, his voice was dangerously level.
“I finally get you, Sara.”
He delivered his confession with biting revulsion, and its labored release seemed to offer him no relief. The statement dissipated, inundating the room with a sticky discomfort. His eyes had not moved.
Niether of us spoke. What was there to say? I’d already chipped away at the last remaining bonds in our relationship, and what was left was hardly worth salvaging.
For his sake, I needed to live with myself.
But for the first time in my life, I’d let someone else win.

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