After Simms and I got over our stupidity, we took our time getting to know each other again, when time permitted, and in another six months, we moved in together in a loft that was close to my old apartment. Simms hadn’t said those three words I most wanted to hear, but I understood his actions were likely the best testament to his feelings, so I could deal.
As time went by, I started thinking more about leaving my job as a bus driver, since things were constantly hectic. Simms never brought it up again, which I appreciated, but I knew he was concerned about wellbeing. The reason I had taken the job was my father. It was how I dealt with his death. How would I move on? What would I do? I just had to figure out what I truly wanted now.
So, a year later, when I received a letter from the L
