A Different Blue

by Amy Harmon

“He told me not to worry. He said, ‘Women cry. If she’s crying over you, she still loves you.’” Wilson tried to mimic the shaky voice of the old man. He looked at me and grinned playfully. “He said I should only worry when you stop.”

And there, in the circle of his arms, held so fiercely that there was no room to doubt him or fear his loss, I slept.