For Donna, standing amazed at herself, everything had come sharply in to focus. Shadows cast by the trees outside played along the floor, and their edges seemed precisely defined against the light. The elevator door opened down the hall, and she heard footsteps and a woman laughing. The silence in the room buzzed in her ears; the air was electric. Josh is looking at her, and she can see a thousand things flashing in his eyes.
How had it come to this so quickly? She'd been surprised by the sense of calm that descended when she saw him waiting at her door. Instead of panic, she'd felt – hardly anything. Numb. As she led him into her apartment, it was as though she were observing the scene from a distance, impressed by the steadiness of her voice and hands. And then, as she sat listening to his apologies – not the words he was saying, but the tenderness underneath them – the dam had broken.
Now she feels both terrified and free. The words that had come rushing to her lips had formed in her heart so long ago that the weight of them, unspoken, had become familiar. Now that she has finally said them aloud, she is aware of a strange lightness in her chest. It causes her not to realize, at first, that she's trembling, but once she does, she prays he can't see.