My heart somersaulted beneath my ribs, and I pressed a hand against my chest. I stood there unmoving but irrevocably shaken as I stared at the image filling the screen. Me. A stupid selfie I’d sent in a moment of weakness when I’d been wearing his shirt when what I really wanted was his arms. He saved it. He made it his background. He looked at it every time he opened his phone. The wall I’d built around my heart over an entire lifetime? The one he managed to crack? It crumbled, and I stood there raw and exposed.
