Again

by J.L. Seegars

I still feel like my legs have been swept out from under me the moment his gaze touches mine because it’s there. It’s all there. Every second of our history is written on his face. Every kiss, every hug, every contented sigh and moan etched inside rings of smoky quartz and gold.

Hell, you can even call her Mrs. Daniels if you’re nasty.”

“I can’t do that,” he says quietly. “Why not?” “Because doing that only makes me think about how everyone should still be calling you Mrs. Daniels.”

A boundless space where the brand she left on my heart has never faded.

“I don’t give a fuck about those papers. Everything I have is yours, and it always will be because I wouldn’t have any of it if it wasn’t for you.”

And knowing that makes me feel like someone has just cracked open my chest and started the dangerous, impossible work of reshaping my heart to fit inside my ex-husband’s hands.

I wish I could climb underneath her skin. Burrow into her heart, make her soul my home.

Her body is my place of worship, and I will spend the rest of my life at her altar.

Whewwwwww.

One that makes me feel like I can survive anything as long as he’s by my side.