Constance and I take turns stoking the fire to keep the drafty little cottage warm throughout the night. As we drift in and out of sleep, I keep some distance between us, though I awake several times to find her face very close to mine, her eyes closed, her breath soft and warm. I’m afraid I’m dreaming, that I might reach out and she’ll be gone. But I allow myself to think of what it would be like to spend my days with her freely, in a future we create.
