elevenWe end up on the couch together.
It’s partly because I’m so exhausted I’m not sure I can keep my feet. And it’s partly because we don’t want to let go of each other.
I know being so touchy isn’t usually my thing, but it feels like the right thing at the moment—what both Dave and I need. And it’s nice.
I’m not crying anymore. All the emotion has worn itself out. It’s really nice now to feel his arm around me, to feel his body against mine, to feel like he’s genuinely here for me—all the way, just as I need him to be.
We don’t turn on the television this time. We just sit together, listening to the sound of the drizzle outside. I’m stroking his chest and belly with my hand, and both our bodies are relaxed.
He must be able to sense that I’m feeling better, because he loosens his ar
