Once inside, we were alone.

My last visit to a public bathroom was at the movie theater. I tried to block the memory by squinting my eyes and Evelyn looked at me funny but I didn’t care. All I wanted was to be quiet inside.

Evelyn hoisted herself up onto the counter, which was made of shiny stainless steel. “These sinks remind me of being on an airplane. Have you ever been in one?”

I shook my head.

“It’s pretty cool. My favorite is the takeoff. Maybe we could go together someday.”

The door swung open and a woman walked inside. She eyed the two of us and then chose the stall furthest away.

“Imagine if we could fly anyplace we wanted.” Her nose started to twitch.

“Like Saturn.”

“Why Saturn?” she asked.

The woman finished and I braced myself for the flush, covering my ears. She washed her hands in the sink, but the drain was clogged and the metal basin filled with gray soapy water. She used the last paper towel to wipe her hands and, when she walked out, the door whined behind her.

“Why Saturn?” she repeated.

I shrugged, watching the water line in the sink descend. “I like the rings.”

She nodded as if what I said made sense.

“I have to go.” She hopped off the counter and headed towards a stall.

I walked into the stall next to hers because I didn’t want to be alone. I crossed my arms over my chest and waited. I heard the angry splashing sound her pee made when it hit the water and then I heard the flush, but this time I didn’t cover my ears. I opened my door seconds after she opened hers and picked the sink with the clogged drain because there was something calming about the way the water collected. The paper towel dispenser was empty, so we used the hand blower on the wall. Evelyn tapped it with her elbow and the room filled with a loud, steady humming noise. We both put our hands underneath, rubbing them softly in the warm, dry air. The room vibrated with sound, but this time it didn’t frighten me.

As my hands, still tingling with their newfound courage, sat beneath hers, I closed my eyes and for the longest second in my life, I pretended I was brave.

That evening, I decided to push my courage even further. “I want to know.”

Leah sat up on the couch. She put her hand over her knuckle and rubbed the rough, callused skin. “What is it that you want to know?”

“I want to know about him. The one that hurt you.”

She was quiet. She looked down at the floor, her eyes blinking quickly, almost as if she was looking through her memories, trying to pick which ones to share. “What is it that you want to know?”

“Why did you love him?”