Why do you stay?
The phone slips from my wet hands and thuds against the carpet.
Can’t believe I just did that. Sending that message wasn’t planned. It was a thought—one that came to mind the moment hot water sprayed against my body. Thoughts always swirl my head in the shower, doesn’t mean I always act on them.
So, why that one?
Why she stays with him is none of my business. It’s her choice.
Before I make it back into the shower, a familiar ping on my phone grabs my attention. My message was received.
Read.
Replied.
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