the confrontation
I confronted Mark during a social gathering, motivated by a combination of resolve and annoyance. Smooth as silk, he was making friends with the guests. I stepped forward, piercing the fake joy that enveloped him. I yelled out, “Mark,” being careful that my voice would not betray me. His eyes flashed with astonishment, and his smile wavered. The commotion around me appeared to subside as I stared at him, the gravity of our predicament unsaid.
The Confrontation
guilt in his eyes
Mark struggled to remain composed as our confrontation took place in the dimly lighted part of the gathering. His eyes avoided mine as I pointed out harsh realities to him. “Mark, what are you concealing?I pressed, my hands trembling to get his answer. Something beneath his smooth exterior was hinted at by a flicker, which was enough of a sign. His unwillingness to look into my eyes just strengthened my belief that I was onto something important.
Guilt In His Eyes
