Restraint Hurt More Than Regret

**I didn’t sleep with her, and that’s the part that hurts** Throwaway.

She came over to return a book she never finished. Said she didn’t want it “sitting

around, reminding her.” We stood in the doorway too long, both pretending

the air wasn’t heavy. We talked about nothing. Work. Weather.

The way people do when they’re circling something fragile. Every pause felt like an invitation

neither of us accepted. When our hands brushed passing the book back, neither of us pulled

away right away. Just long enough to notice. Not long enough to act.

She smiled the kind of smile that says *don’t make this harder*. I said something