Play Me Like You Mean It
“I was busy before you barged in.”
“You can take a break,” he teased, leaning closer.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Yes.”
My eyes widened. “Wait, no. You tricked me!”
He laughed, the sound I’d missed all week. Then his expression softened. “I’m sorry I’ve been distant.”
I reached out, pressed a finger to his lips before he could say more. “Don’t. I understand.”
And then I kissed him, because mourning doesn’t need apologies. It’s human, and I understand.