Ardal
Kadeem’s hand interlocks with mine and a familiar warmth floods over me. Five children are giggling and hollering feet away, but they fall to a dim background hum.
Amber afternoon light spills from the windows, highlighting Kadeem’s chiseled features and chocolate brown eyes. The worn leather band of his watch is pressed against my wrist, a gentle reminder of the passage of time, even in a moment that seems endless.
We’re standing so close, I can find the rippling scar that lines his neck - a badge of survival from a vicious fight when he was 17. I can see the jagged one at his right temple - a trace of the car accident Susan used to erode what was left of our marriage.
Just as easily, I see the constellations of freckles that dot his arms, and the dimple in his cheek that de
