I didn’t want him to see me. Or, more specifically, smell me. The turning point came when my boyfriend, Henry, came over.

We had been dating for a few months, and he was the one bright spot in my increasingly bleak days.

Henry has always been the supportive boyfriend, the green flag we all look for. He’s always been kind to me, and he came over that day because he had noticed I had been avoiding him.

“Where have you been, Amy?” he asked as he held me by my arms. “I was… I was just busy with some stuff, Henry,” I faked a smile.

“I’m fine.” “Really? You don’t look fine, babe,” he said. “I’m okay, Henry,” I said as I held his hand.

“Tell me one thing… Do I smell bad?”He laughed, thinking I was kidding. “No, babe. You smell fine. Why?””Nothing.

I just…” I mumbled. “Forget it.” “I’ll be right back,” he said before going to the bathroom. A few minutes later, I watched him step out of the bathroom with the soap bar in his hand.

I could see he wasn’t too happy about it. “Who gave you this?! Are you taking cold showers with this?!?” he asked with eyes wide open.How did he know this? I thought.