Cruel Whispers

“Please please stay! Don’t leave me.

I love you!”

We both freeze when she says this. Does she even realize what she said?

“You don’t mean that,” how cruel am I to accuse her of not meaning something like that? She looks to her left and sighs. Wiping her sweaty hands on her jeans she says, “I do.”

I cover my face and focus on my breathing.

What have I done?

In a hushed voice I tell her

“I don’t love you.”

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