I’m mad. I’m angry. He always does this to me. My inner voice says if he makes you angry, why are you standing here so close to him?

Shut up, I tell my inner voice. I am close. Too close. But I don’t want to move away. This is my kitchen, after all. My apartment. Well, not mine, but you know what I mean.

He’s gazing into my eyes and he’s close enough that I notice his eyes studying my face. They settle on my lips and I swallow. I lick my lips nervously before his eyes move down over my body.

I take my coffee and turn away. I...