32. Why I Left
Mara
I didn't want to move.
The afternoon sun spilled through the living room windows, bathing everything in a warm golden glow. The television had long since gone silent, though neither of us had bothered to switch it off.
I lay curled against Zander's side on the couch, my cheek resting on his chest. His heartbeat had settled into a slow, steady rhythm beneath my ear. For once, neither of us had anywhere to be and neither of us was running.
His fingers lazily combed through my hair, untangling strands one by one. The gesture was so gentle it almost made me smile. If someone had told the thirteen-year-old version of me that one day I would be lying like this in Zander's arms, I would've died from happiness.
The thought escaped me before I could stop it, "I've loved y
