“Do you love her?” I don’t even have to think about it. The answer is clear as day in my head, even through the fog of my da’s illness. “I do. She’s the first lass I’ve ever loved.” “Do you want her to be the last?” I reach up and grip the top of the doorframe. “Yeah, I would, but I don’t think that’s an option. She’s going back to America on Tuesday.” “Tuesday?” I nod. “Then that means you still have today.” He smiles.
