Leaning back, I cupped his face in my hands, my thumbs wiping the moisture from his cheeks. His eyes were red rimmed, and I imagined mine looked the same. The flat palm of his hand rested against my chest. We searched each other’s expression, a quiet sort of armistice between us, breathing itself into our lungs, filling all those regretful spaces inside us with something more. Are we okay? We will be.
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