She smiled, and the loneliness behind it was a physical thing, a cold draft from an open door. “Everyone eventually doubts it.”
“Why not?”
He wasn’t. But she was.
“It’s a lot,” she said, watching him take it in. rendezvous with a lonely girl
She traced the rim of her cup. “Staying means roots. Roots mean being seen. And being seen means someone might notice how empty I actually am.” She smiled, and the loneliness behind it was