Ashley
I should have moved. I needed to move. This was Zach, the man who had broken my heart with his cruel words just a few hours ago at the party, who had allowed our marriage to crumble. Yet, as he looked at me, his eyes soft and searching, I felt frozen in place. My breath caught as his other hand rose, fingers touching my cheek with a tenderness that stole the air from my lungs. He tucked a stray strand of my brown hair behind my ear, his touch lingering, deliberate.
His gesture was so intimate, so achingly familiar, that my chest tightened with a flood of memories of the nights tangled in sheets, whispered promises, deep kisses.
“ I still have to figure out how to live without you,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion.
The words hit me like a gust of wind. I felt the wall
