Fifteen
Sedona
I don’t stop until I reach the kitchen. My hand covers my racing heart while I gather my nerves together. My body was urging me to feel him, touch him, kiss him. To feel with certainty that he’s really here and asking for a second chance. How many nights did I pray that he’d return to me?
He smells so good. Not like me, who just gave birth and whose boobs are already busting at the seams to pump again. These hormones must be playing tricks on me. There’s no way I could actually still want the man who essentially abandoned me while I was pregnant.
I pull out some cheese and grapes, fixing a plate for Palmer.
Hearing the story of what spurred him to go into therapy made me feel guilty. Should I have tried harder to help him while we were still together? In the months lead
