Aria's POV
I dreamed about my mother more times than I thought about the reality of life without her. But never in any of those conceptions had it felt like this. Camaraderie and honesty over fresh food and humorous conversation. Even as Steele interlaced our fingers or left no more than the fabric of our clothes between us had my mother done anything but cast a raised brow and a humored smirk. And those who surrounded us never looked at us with anything but compassion and even a little jealousy as we walked the perimeter with our hands never leaving each other. And it was that feeling of home that I was afraid to get used to.
Because everything I loved tended to die. It was why I didn’t say those words to Steele despite the fact my crazed heart was dying to. Especially after we’d almos
