"I don't understand, why are you telling me to let it go?" The dim amber glow of the room casts dark shadows on Ash's face as I look up at him. His eyes, their usual bright, warm, honey-speckled colour, are steely and unwavering as they look back at me—an occurrence that happens every time he and I find ourselves in a disagreement. But this time, I don't understand the problem between us, to the point where, for the first time, I would be okay with backing down. The question replays in my head over and over—why was he hiding this from me—why was he hiding this from me—why was he hiding this from me. But I can't find an answer.
And, as Ash keeps looking at me without giving me what I want, I feel the pull to let it go, that it's not a big deal. Maybe it just slipped his mind that he didn't tell me. But then, I think, why is he trying so hard to dismiss the subject now if there is nothing to hide?
