My heart aches. Aches to be reunited with the piece he’s stolen from me. My nose brushes his. “Pretend,” I whisper against his lips. I am recklessness incarnate. Until the very end. My mouth meets his. He tastes like longing. Like regret and relief. Like nothing matters but this moment. It’s fervent, like a sinner’s final prayer. And maybe that is what this kiss is. Repentance.
