CHAPTER 11
Jeff walks in on Thursday evening.
I’m on the couch in the sitting room, in my pyjamas, reading a book, listening to the fire crackling. It’s cold outside, near zero, and the forecast threatens snow.
He comes over to me, gently takes my book and places it on the coffee table. Then he lies down on top of me, careful not to crush me. He feels cold, thanks to the outdoor clothes he’s still wearing.
“I’m so sorry,” he says. He looks deep into my eyes. My anger receded long ago, and now I’m just glad he’s back, unexpected as it is. I hadn’t thought he would be gone long, but I never know with him.
I reach up to touch his hair. It gives off that cold smell. I twirl some of it around my finger and watch his lips move. It’s not quite a smile. He doesn’t know where he stands.
“Are
