“When?”
“After the bus.”
“And this morning?”
“It was fine.”
“Until?”
“Second mile.”
Dani closed her eyes briefly. Not anger. Control.
“Sit.”
“I can walk.”
“Sit.”
We moved to the bench near the track. She crouched in front of me. The position echoed the shoe fitting, but there was no flirtation now. Only focus.
“Sharp or dull?”
“Dull.”
“Constant?”
“No.”
“Worse bending?”
“Not significantly.”
“Stairs?”
“I noticed it slightly this morning.”
“You didn’t say anything.”
“It was minor.”
Dani touched two fingers lightly near the outside of my knee.
“Here?”
“Yes.”
“Here?”
“Less.”
She stood.
“We’re done.”
“With the interval?”
“With running.”
