"How did she die?" The question remained unanswered as his story continued.
He had no idea why it was suddenly easy to tell her everything when he had kept this part of his life hidden from the world, even to himself. What started as reminiscing had become storytelling.
He had suppressed many of his memories, the better and worse times of his life, because it was easier to accept the present without the past that kept haunting him.
Maybe it was easier because she did not interrupt him. She did not insist on her opinion. She just stayed quiet and listened without any judgment or accusation. Or maybe there was a simple explanation. It was her.
He trusted her.
"Everything was quiet that night. But as I had expected, I could not sleep." He continued his story, not wanting to end until he answered her question.
