I wanted to tell him how much I’d missed him. That I’d stared at pictures that had only fragments of him in them, how I’d dreamed about him and how I felt when he came to the cottage. I didn’t know why it was so hard to say what I was feeling. Maybe because it felt hard to feel what I was feeling. “You didn’t leave,” I whispered. “I will never leave you,” he said tiredly. “I mean, unless you tell me to. I’m not a creep.” I laughed and my sore stomach hurt. He pulled me closer and kissed the top of my head. And for the first time maybe ever, I felt like I belonged somewhere.
