But as the afternoon wore on, I started to feel it. I was fine one minute, and the next it was like someone hit me with a tired stick. I did my best to hide it because Noah was so clearly having a good time, but he noticed anyway. He didn’t say anything out loud, but I was catching the slightly concerned looks. I also realized, after a bit, he was gently steering us back toward the door that would lead to the parking lot. By the time we got back to the new section, he wasn’t even making a halfhearted attempt to hide his intention. Instead, he was making a casual beeline for the door, not hurried but not stopping either.
“Sorry,” I said when we got to a quieter spot and I knew he’d be able to hear me. “Didn’t mean to cut everything short.”