He was woken by something brushing his cheek, a butterfly wing, or a kiss. More likely a kiss than a butterfly wing. “Hello, stranger,” a familiar voice said. “Fuzzy,” he mumbled. He opened his eyes and she was there. Of course. He had a moment of supernatural clarity. He was with the wrong woman. He had been going the wrong way. This was the right way. The right woman. “Hello, you,” he said. He had been mute for decades and now suddenly he’d been given a voice. “I was thinking about you,” Jackson said. “I just didn’t know it.” Her eyes were black pools of exhaustion. She was prettier than he
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