His fingertips stroke over the bare skin on her shoulder. I never thought I’d see the man so happy and in love. For a fraction of a second, I wonder what it’s like to love someone as much as he loves Margo. What it’s like to be loved the way she loves him. It’s only a thought I humor for a moment before I rid it from my mind. I don’t want to be in the position he’s in. I remember the terrified phone call I got from him when he thought she’d ended their engagement. To love is to be vulnerable. I’ve never been very good at being vulnerable.
