"It was a good day," I said, my voice quieter than I intended.
"We haven't done anything," you replied. But your hand moved, closing the photo album slowly, setting it aside. Your fingers lingered on the cover. Then you turned to face me fully. tara tainton it can happen so fast
It Can Happen So Fast
It can happen so fast. But maybe—just maybe—that's the only way it ever really happens at all. "It was a good day," I said, my
"We shouldn't," I said, but my voice cracked on the second word. Your fingers lingered on the cover
It can happen so fast. One minute you're sorting through winter coats, and the next you're tangled on the floor with someone who's been a footnote in your life for years, suddenly becoming the whole story. Your back presses into the carpet, and her weight settles over you, and you realize you've been hungry for this without knowing it.
She turns her head on the carpet, her cheek pressing into the fibers. "Now," she says, "we stop pretending we didn't feel it."