“Talk to me,” Alex said one evening, sitting on the edge of Sam’s couch. The rain drummed against the glass, steady and insistent.
Alex wanted to argue, to list all the reasons Sam was wrong. But he’d felt it too, hadn’t he? That subtle distance, like standing on opposite sides of a door that was slowly closing. The Boyfriend
The words landed like stones in still water. Alex felt the ripples spread through his chest, cold and slow. “That’s not a thought that appears overnight,” he said carefully. “What changed?” “Talk to me,” Alex said one evening, sitting
Sam nodded, but his eyes were wet. “I’m sorry.” “Talk to me