But I’m not ready for the soft touch of her hand on my thigh. I’m not ready for the arm she threads around my torso or the way she buries her face in my shoulder. I’m not ready for the two words she whispers: “Thank you.” I sit for a moment, stunned, before I’m able to react. I wrap my arms around her and pull her onto my lap, where she folds perfectly into me—my origami heart.
