“I know.”
I wrapped my arms around him.
He pulled me against his chest.
Buried his face in my neck.
For the first time in nine months, I felt his arms around me.
I held him tighter.
Not because everything was forgiven.
Because he was warm.
Breathing.
Alive.
He kissed my cheek, then my lips.
“God, I missed you,” he whispered.
“I missed you too.”
For a moment, neither of us let go.
“I love you,” I whispered.
“I love you too.”
“But you cannot disappear every time you’re frightened.”
He nodded against my shoulder.
“I need the truth, even when it’s ugly.”
“You’ll have it.”
We held each other for several minutes.
Neither of us wanting to let go.
Finally, Jeremy pulled back just enough to look at me.
“Can I see them?”
I rolled the stroller closer.
He reached toward one daughter.
