I reach out and run my fingers along the wooden stick on the wall and goosebumps climb up my arm. The hall leads to an open kitchen with a giant island. A piece of paper catches my eye. Tyler’s penmanship sucks the air out of my lungs. Why is it the smallest things that hit me the hardest when it comes to him? Ev, Here’s my card for food and emergencies, or whatever you need. Stay out of trouble. Ty I hate how even when I want to hold on to every ounce of anger for the things he did in the past, the present version draws me in.
