But with Rosie…I’m not the stars, lighting bits of her sky. I’m the rising sun on the clearest day, touching every inch of her world, lighting the bleakest, darkest parts where she hasn’t seen light in far too long. She looks at me like I’m everything good and bright. She looks at me like she’s…grateful. Grateful to be here with me. Grateful for the patience, for the understanding, for every kindness and every smile. It’s nearly painful how heavy the weight of her stare is. Because I know, even on our best days, the way Courtney used to look at me could never compare, and it makes me feel a
...more
