“You dream about me?” My heartbeat is a painful, slow thumping in my chest as I wait for his answer to my question. The prospect of starring in his dreams, happy memories we never made replacing the images of what we now know wasn’t the last day of his mother’s life, stealing my breath. He sets the box on the counter, turning it in tiny revolutions with his fingertips while his eyes devour me. “Every night. These days yours is the only face I see when I close my eyes.” “No more nightmares then?” “Nope, just you, princess.”
