When in Rome

by Sarah Adams

Noah is the blanket fort you used to make and hide in as a kid. So warm and reassuring.

The longer I’m here, the more I feel my limbs tingling back to life. It seems important to stay, no matter how awkward it feels.

Involuntary tears are starting to stream from my eyes. I’m not crying! Let the record show my eyes are doing this on their own!

A surge of protectiveness rams through my body and suddenly I want to hunt down anyone who has ever turned her down for a game of Scrabble and force them to play all night with her.

She dimples at James and I find myself wanting to cup my hands over her cheeks so he can’t see them. Like those dimples are an intimate part of her that only I should be entitled to see. Shit, I’m in big trouble.