wanted to imagine the things we’d missed.
I wrote about Aurora because I didn’t want to forget the wonderful things we had.
And I wrote about you because, even when we couldn’t talk about everything, I loved the life we made.”
At the bottom, he’d confessed:
“I wish I’d been brave enough to show you.”
I brushed my hand across the words.
“You could’ve shown me, you stubborn man.”
Thinking of my own mistake in walking away from Aurora, I reached for the phone.
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