DANTE:
Her mouth is still warm against mine when she pulls back just enough to look at me. The absence of her lips feels like an open wound, making me wonder how I have been surviving without her.
“Do you know,” she says softly, looking into my eyes, “that you can tell me anything? I’m your wife.”
The word wife lands heavy in my chest. Of course, I know. I am not some dumb child, and I want to tell her everything. But what if she leaves me? My life might be too much for her.
“I know,” I mutter, and she holds my gaze for a while.
Her beautiful eyes are like daggers now. If I am not grounded, I might be tempted to spill every secret buried in my chest.
“Some things are better left unsaid, love.” I give her a similar dismissive reply, which causes her face to fall flat.
“I know you mea
