“I’m so happy.” I beamed, walking into the cutest damn baby shop in the northeast.
Sage looped her arm around mine, humming and peering at all the baby toys that’d soon be littered around our home. She had moved in last week, and we had started painting the nursery together.
Constantino wheeled a bright red cart through the aisles behind us, then stopped when we reached the cribs. Sage continued toward the baby clothes instead of choosing a crib with Constantino. So, I followed because I liked looking at all the tiny dresses.
She had been quiet today, and I feared that those memories of waterboarding and torture were still weighing on her mind. It had only been a couple of weeks, but she had at least begun to open up to us about it.
Constantino held her every night as she cried in his
