Bruce appeared in the doorway just as I lifted it out.
He stopped cold.
“What is this?” I asked.
He rubbed a hand over his face. “I bought it during our second year of trying.”
“You kept it?”
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He nodded.
Bruce came closer but did not touch me.
“Why?”
His eyes filled immediately. “Because I never had the heart to throw it away.”
I sat down on the floor with the blanket in my lap.
Bruce came closer but did not touch me.
“I told myself I had accepted things,” he said. “Maybe I had, partly. But not fully. I never stopped hoping. I just stopped admitting it.”
