They sat across the table from each other. Since she set down the papers and he picked up the pen, neither of them had moved a muscle. Everything was changing. It all hinged on this moment. What he decided to do—what she decided to say—what they actually meant to each other. Right now, everything was perfectly balanced, the whole word equally weighted. The next action, the next word, the next breath would tip the scales one way or the other, and there would be no going back.
No one wanted to make that next move. Someone had to.