A walk in the garden

The garden was quiet that evening, just the soft rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze filled the night. 

Marion and I strolled slowly along the neatly trimmed hedges, silently. Just the soles of our shoes kissing the gravel were our companions.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Marion broke it. "Selena," he began, "I realize we haven't had much time to talk about you, about who you are beyond these recent events. I'd like to know more about you, if you're willing to share."

I hesitated, feeling the familiar tug of memories I'd rather keep buried. 

My heart pounded as I weighed my words; this was not an easy subject to broach. The wounds were still very fresh. 

I took a slow breath and let my gaze fall on some blooming roses before meeting his eyes again.