LOVE FOR SALE
I still loved her.
Not in the same way I did before. That love was young, idealistic, full of assumptions. This version was quieter. Sharper. Burned into me by proximity and time and all the little moments that added up—her laugh in the morning, the way she talked to the baby when she thought no one was listening, the way she always left the light on for me when I worked late.
I was falling for a woman who was broken, complicated, brave.
And completely out of reach.