The truth game

I am talking non-stop, not even pausing to take a breath.

"Let's play the truth game," I say excitedly.

He asks me "What's that?" and keeps his gaze focused intently on the road. I tell him that I can ask him any question and he has to answer truthfully. There is a pause.

"No," he states.

"Why not," I ask.

He says he doesn't like those games. And before I can ask why he says,

"There are just some things that I want to keep to myself."

I let my eyes drift across the center console and onto the side of his face.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"I'm not hiding anything," he assures me, "there are just some things that have no relevence to our relationship."

"Everything is relevent," I inform him, "If it has to do with you, then it has something to do with our relationship."

I am curious what he isn't telling me. I want to know his secrets.

"But it's all in the past. It doesn't matter," he states, "Right?"

I pause and then say, "I guess so."

It is quiet. I am staring straight ahead, just like I do when I am upset, letting my mind wander to the possible skeletons in his closet.

He treads carefully, " This is why I didn't want to play. You're mad."

I lay the seat back and grab the blanket off the back seat.

"I'm not mad," I say, trying to convice myself.

Silence fills the car again. I lay back in my seat and allow myself to stare aimlessly at the ceiling.
I tell him that I don't understand.

"I know. I didn't think you would," he casts a sideways glance in my direction.

I finally take a breath and give myself permission to drown it all out- all except his "I love you" which resounds five minutes later.