I hadn’t meant to say it—not like this. Not when her face was resting so quietly on my thigh, her body curled into mine like she belonged there.
But she didn’t respond.
Her breath was soft and steady on my thigh.
Asleep.
Of course she was.
I stared down at her face, peaceful, beautiful, and heartbreakingly unaware of the monster she chose to rest her head on.
That was the first time I’d said sorry in over ten years. I wasn’t even sure I still remembered how it felt.
And yet, it slipped out…
Gently, I lifted her head from my lap and laid her against the pillows. She didn’t stir. Not even when I stood and leaned against the edge of her dresser, staring at the woman who had somehow softened the cold, calcified wreckage of my soul.
“I don’t know how to love gently,” I said under my
