Conceal the Face of Vulnerability

by Stephanie Burton

I was laying away from him, refusing to look in his direction. "Did I hurt you?" he asked softly, touching my shoulder. I shook my head, squeezing the tears into the corners of my eyes. The room was silent for a long time, but when I finally rolled over to face him, he lifted my chin to brush a tear from my cheek and pulled me closer to him. "Why are you crying?" he whispered. I kissed him instead of answering, because I didn't know how to explain that if the night meant nothing to him, I'd be forced to walk home empty again.


Stephanie Burton, author of Breakup, was trained as an investigative reporter, and has lived all over the world, including London and Australia. She currently resides in New York City with two fabulous roommates who politely deal with her assortment of male suitors. You can read more about the sagas of Stephanie's love life (and other adventures) at Spread Eagle in NYC.


Quin said...

such a sense of sadness...that empty hole we all try to fill one way or another. you put it perfectly

Anonymous said...


Madam Z said...

"If the night meant nothing to him," would he have been so tender and kind? I agree with quin that there is "a sense of sadness," but also a ray of hope.

Rebekah said...

Many of us have known that ray of hope stemming from kindness, which disappears when our companions' afterglows have worn off.

This is PERFECTLY written, and many a teenager will, alas, connect with this.