rather endure almost anything than risk making another person uncomfortable.
Four minutes later, he returned.
And he wasn’t alone.
But to understand why those four minutes mattered so much, you have to understand my husband.
And what it had taken for us to get inside that theater at all.
Owen is thirty-eight years old and one of the gentlest people I have ever known.
I don’t mean weak.
He’s six-foot-two, works construction, and can carry a sheet of drywall up a staircase by himself.
But he avoids confrontation almost instinctively.
