The slightest touch

As I was hunched over my computer last night, writing the previous rant about the Musician and how I secretly hoped he'd knock on my door and grovel, he knocked on my door. And grovelled? Yep, you betcha. He apologized for blowing me off. We sat on my floor. Kept our distance. Talked. Asked questions. Told him the truth. He talked. I listened. Hours passed. I asked him to tell me something honest: he touched my knee.