“Mama sent over some lunch,” Mila says from the couch, barely showing any attention to me when I walk in.
“Okay, great.” I see the containers on the table and walk over and make a plate of fried fish, French fries, and homemade hush puppies. I sit at the table alone and hate how much this is bothering me. Once I’m finished eating, I wash my hands and have my short playtime with Maize. Since we’re both on a schedule, I try to spend as much time with her as I can. Often, I’ll leave the B&B just to give her kisses.
“I think you’re overreacting. I’ve already said I’m sorry. What else do you want me to do?” Mila stands and walks to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.
“Can we just pretend it didn’t happen and move on?” As much as I’ve tried to pretend, the thought of holding her close agai
