21July 2009
I woke up early that morning. Evelyn was still asleep next to me, curled in on herself, her face relaxed and worry free. I brushed a hand over her face, moved her hair off her eyes, smiled when she sighed. Part of me wanted to wake her up, wanted to hear her babbling about the day and all the things she wanted to do before it was time and the dress she was going to put on and all the things she could write now that she knew what something like this was really like and I wanted to hear her say that she loved me. I wanted to tell her I loved her. But she looked so soft, I couldn't bring myself to bother her.
"I love you," I whispered, and then I crawled out of bed and padded out of the bedroom, shutting the door quietly behind me. The house was silent; the kids' doors were shut
