Tara Tainton It Can Happen So Fast -

"We haven't done anything," you replied. But your hand moved, closing the photo album slowly, setting it aside. Your fingers lingered on the cover. Then you turned to face me fully.

I was helping you clean out the hall closet—an innocent task, a favor between people who had known each other for years. Neighbors. Friends. The kind of relationship with safe, predictable boundaries. tara tainton it can happen so fast

"Tell me to stop," you said.

You nodded, your fingers tracing the edge of the photograph. "You left early. Said you had a headache." "We haven't done anything," you replied

It Can Happen So Fast

"Remember this?" you asked, opening to a page from a summer barbecue three years ago. I was laughing in the picture, my head tilted back, and you were looking at me—really looking. I hadn't noticed it then. The way your smile softened when you thought no one was watching. Then you turned to face me fully