“Was it real, Honeysuckle? The way you loved me then. The way you’re looking at me right now. Every laugh, every secret told, every smile you’ve given me. What you wrote in that letter.” “It’s all real,” she whispers. “It has always been real.” I cup her face in both hands, wiping away tears as they fall from her face and swallowing back my own emotions. “Did you look for me in the dark? Did you try to hear my voice?” “I tried.” She nods. “But I think your voice got drowned out by the howls of wolves.” “I know, baby. I know.” I lean down, pressing our foreheads together and caressing her jaw.
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