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I take the bar of soap from her hand, force a smile, and resolve that I won’t ruin our last hours together by being maudlin. “Yes, ma’am. Tell me where you want me to start.” She goes up on her toes and kisses me. I kiss her back, trying to pretend the mist in my eyes is from the shower. After the shower, I dry her off and carry her into bed. She laughs at me, protesting that she knows how to walk, but I know this will be the last time I can do this, so I do. I make love to her again. It’s different than before, softer, sweeter, and devastatingly powerful. Probably because we both know it’s goodbye. She falls asleep in my arms. I lie awake, watching the play of shadows on the ceiling, aching for all the moments we won’t get to share. I finally drift off to sleep, only to awaken with
- Writer
