unlike her own

She told the story from her perspective, it was not far from the truth, a kind of dark shade of grey kind of truth. Her voice stayed low so the girl could only hear pieces of the half truth floating toward her. The girl always knew it would happen, as the woman never seemed to hold her tongue for very long; feeling a sense of relief that it was at least being acknowledged, let out a small breath she didn't realize she was holding. Her timing was interesting at best and as a smile played at her lips she remembered being in this very room a year ago with a smile that was only ever for this place, once a week for just over an hour. She melted back into happiness for that moment, remembering what it was like to have someone like that in her life again, someone who just understood with a look, a sigh, a gentle squeeze of a hand.
Tonight the woman was tainting a memory she didn't own; thankfully her voice was low and what she needed to share and attempt to spoil couldn't be done. The girl looked over only to see a quick flash of sadness on the woman's face before it was covered up with anger she wears saved only for this place. A slow sadness crept in before the memory had a chance to finish and right there she knew she could no longer be hurt by the woman knowing she didn't understand. All too suddenly it was time to go, one more hour sifted though as they both watched separately together.