The gym emptied slowly, the children leaving in groups, their laughter echoing off the walls as they made their way outside. The woman remained, her eyes never leaving me. Her silence was a challenge, a puzzle that begged to be solved.
I busied myself with my tasks, the mop a familiar weight in my hands. Yet, her presence was a constant reminder of the moment that had passed, and the questions that remained.
“Is she yours?”
The question slipped out before I could stop it, the words hanging in the air between us.
She shook her head, a small movement that spoke volumes. Her eyes softened, and for a moment, I glimpsed something raw and unguarded.
“No, she’s not mine,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
There was a story there, one that I could sense but not grasp. Her silence was a barrier, one that I was hesitant to breach.
We stood there, two strangers caught in the web of a shared moment, the echoes of our dance still resonating in the space between us.
Note: This story is a work of fiction inspired by real events. Names, characters, and details have been altered.
