Her eyes bounce to the bed a few feet away from us. “Like old times?” She doesn’t have to say much else for me to understand what she’s asking. There were so many nights throughout the years she lived here that she’d crawl into bed with me. It was innocent. She needed comfort, and I didn’t have it in me to ever deny her. Even when I knew I should have. Mare holds eye contact with me as she backs up toward the bed. As soon as the backs of her thighs hit the mattress, she turns and crawls into the sheets. She yanks on the comforter, remembering that I hate having it tucked in at the end.
