He Touched Her, I Walked Away

“Why are you being so quiet? Are you not feeling well? Do you have a fever?”

Seeing my silence, Sean Olson reached his hand out, trying to feel my forehead.

However, that was the same hand he had just used to hold another woman.

I quietly tilted my head away and slipped out of his embrace.

The air in the room froze for a second.

His hand was left hanging awkwardly in mid-air, looking completely lost, and a flash of panic crossed his eyes.

“Ellie, are you… actually mad at me?

“Look, I know I shouldn't have stood you and your parents up. You can hit me, yell at me, anything. Just please don't give me the silent treatment, okay?”

Honestly, even just listening to him speak felt exhausting.

I just wanted to end this whole circus as quickly as possible. So, I looked up and cut him off.

“Go take a shower.

“You're covered in sweat, and you know how much I hate a mess.”

Sean let out a sigh of relief. His tense shoulders instantly dropped, and that familiar, helpless smile returned to his face.

“Man, you scared me to death. I thought you were actually furious with me for being late.

“My bad, totally my bad. I wasn’t thinking and brought all that stink right to you.”

Clearly, he only understood the literal meaning of my words.

He started humming a song as he walked into the bathroom, and soon, the sound of rushing water filled the room.

I pulled out a tissue and, without a single shred of emotion on my face, wiped down the exact spots where he had just touched me. Then, I tossed it into the trash can.

Sure, water could wash away the smell of sweat from his body.

But it could never wash away the lingering looks he had given someone else.

Once something is ruined, it's ruined.

The next morning, I was woken up by his call.

“Babe, I left in such a rush this morning that I forgot my knee pads at home. Can you bring them over to me?”

The background noise on his end was incredibly loud, pulsing with the upbeat rhythm of Latin dance music.

If this had been the old me, I wouldn't have hesitated for a single second.

I would have taken a cab immediately and rushed right over.

On top of that, I would have thoughtfully packed him some pre-cut fruit and a Gatorade to help him keep his energy up.

But now? I just stared blankly at the ceiling and gave a flat reply. “Just DoorDash a courier to pick them up.”

“That's way too slow! Plus, they always get lost, and I have to go all the way outside to meet them. It's going to ruin my practice rhythm.

“Come on, babe, just make a quick trip. Oh, and while you're at it, can you make a couple of turkey sandwiches? Madison and I haven't had lunch yet.”

He didn't even try to hide mentioning Madison Grant's name.

I was just about to hang up on him when, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a dusty shoebox sitting in the study.

Inside was a pair of custom ballroom dance shoes that I had specially ordered through a friend all the way from Sampa.

After I gave them to him, he took them to the studio and never wore them even once.

He claimed they were too flashy and not practical enough for daily use.

Well, thinking about it now, this was actually the perfect time to grab them, sell them off, and get some of my money back.

“Fine,” I said.

After hanging up, I took my sweet time washing up and getting ready. Then, I grabbed his knee pads and drove over to the dance studio.

I walked down the familiar hallways toward Studio One.

The door was slightly cracked open.

However, just as I was about to push it open and walk in, the suggestive sounds coming from inside made me freeze right in my tracks.

“Ah… it hurts, Sean… Please go a little easier on me…”