“I’m going to place my hand against your cheek.” The corner of her mouth tips in a barely-there smile, but I catch it. “Is that okay?” “That’s okay.” Slowly, I raise my hand and do as I told her, resting my hand against her cheek. Everything in the background fades away. I don’t hear the other patrons at the park or the cars driving by. I don’t hear the click of my sister’s camera. All I see is this beautiful woman who has so obviously been hurt in the past.
