my hands go straight to Gracelyn’s head, my fingers threading through her wet hair as I kiss her. It’s not the kind of kiss you give someone in front of your ten-year-old daughter. It’s the kind of kiss you give someone when you love them, and you know this might be the last time you ever kiss them. It’s the kind of kiss that makes the other person stumble backward and grab hold of your wrists to keep from falling. It’s the kind of kiss that sustains past the point of reason, to the point of your lungs burning … until the last possible second to leave before missing your flight. “So much …” I
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