“You kept that.” Frowning, I follow his line of sight to my dresser and see the drawing I framed. “Oh, yeah. Of course, I did.” When I look back at him there is a tender expression on his face, and his thumb brushes down the side of my leg. I wonder if I should tell him how much I actually treasure that piece of paper. It’s the first gift I’ve received in years, and the only one from him. If my house was on fire, it’s the first thing I’d grab on my way out the door.
