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AlmaI cried the whole way home from the hospital on Sunday, my heart tearing in two. I’ve skated through the week in a daze, my mind always somewhere else. Memories of Leo came back to me in vivid detail—all of them, just when I thought they were fading.
There isn’t a choice, not really. Only one scenario makes sense, and my brain knows this. I can’t turn away from the chance at an incredible life with an epic love because I’m afraid to let my first love go. It’s time. It’s been time, but that doesn’t make it any easier.
If Leo and I had ended on bad terms, gotten a divorce, or grown apart—it’d be a different story. It’s a struggle to love another when I’m still so in love with him. If it were anyone but Amos, I wouldn’t. I’d rather live in the memories alone.
But it’s Amos.
And he
