“I love you more than anything, Myla. I need you to know that.” I lift and kiss her eyes, her nose, her mouth again. “And I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I hurt you.” Her hand strokes the back of my head as she says, “I know.” And then she kisses me again, and I can feel her passion all the way to the tips of my toes, but even though she’s here in my arms, holding me tightly, I can’t help but think about how I told her I love her . . . and she didn’t say it back.
