After dinner, we ran up the stairs, Vic getting ready to head into the city for his shift at the hospital, me getting ready to call it a night with a book. Vic showered and then I brushed my teeth as he pulled on fresh clothes in the bedroom.
Rubbing at the steamed-up mirror, my eye caught on a patch of hair that never lay exactly right. I knew it covered a bit of skull that hadn’t been mine before the accident. I was sure a lot of me hadn’t been mine before the accident, but I had avoided asking many questions.
I pressed at it, trying to plaster it down with wet fingers, and was amazed that I couldn’t feel the difference. It seemed to me that it should have felt different. Wrong somehow.
I dropped my hand.
I was infinitely glad Vic had gone to such lengths to make sure all of me match
