The stairs. After what felt like hours, I slipped back into bed.
He was already there, breathing evenly, pretending he hadn’t just crossed a line you can’t uncross. “Dave?” I whispered. “Mmm?” He rolled toward me, eyes heavy with fake sleep.
“Everything okay?”
“I got up to use the bathroom. Where were you?”
“What do you mean? I’ve been right here.” He continue reading …
