Without a word, she washes Celeste’s body, swirling the soap suds over her curves. Celeste doesn’t have a snarky remark, and I don’t make a joke to lighten the mood. Instead, I move to stand behind Celeste, and massage her head with shampoo the way I did to Kourtney. She hums and closes her eyes, and I glance over her shoulder to meet Kourtney’s gaze.
My heart
