One night before I drove home, he was giving me a hug. He innocently touched the side of my thigh as we pulled away, and I froze. I don't know if I got a flash back or not, but I felt sick to my stomach.
"Can you please not do that?"
"Won't happen again," he said.
And it didn't.
He didn't know my past. He didn't need an explanation. He didn't whine or pout.
Respect is an awesome thing.
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