“It’s not a dream, sweetheart. Put your hand in mine, and anytime you need to remind yourself of where you are, you squeeze as hard as you need to.” He lays his palm on the bed, facing up, and waits patiently for me to decide if I want to take it. I bite my lip, wondering if that’s something I should try and push so quickly. I haven’t touched another person, or been touched without the accompaniment of pain, in so long.
