I inhale sharply, so fast I think I might choke from it. But I don’t. I survive this moment and the next one and the next one, no matter how much it feels like I’m dying on the inside. All of this. All for nothing. Eyes closed, I keep breathing slowly, letting the warmth of the sun on my skin soothe my raging heart. Will doesn’t say anything, like he knows I need this time-out. We’re both aware of what this separation means, and what we’ve sacrificed—or more like what he’s sacrificed—for it not to happen.
