They had to spend the night in Sherman, which is at least four hours from here, and won’t be back until late this evening. All I know is, it was hell without him, and that was just one day, but tonight he’s all mine.All last year I shed tears over my pillow because I missed his smiles, those insanely deep dimples you could dive into, the way he would wave from across the lake and, now, in a few short weeks, it all goes back to the way it was. I can only imagine those impossibly long, lonely nights without him will sting that much more—now that there are kisses to miss, his warm, strong hands roaming over my body, his amazing tongue. But tomorrow is the Fourth of July, and I’m going to spend it in the most special way possible with the boy I love.I sigh into my pillow before reaching down and pulling out my mother’s letters. I shuffle them in my hands like a deck of cards, smoothing my fingers over each one as if it were her skin. God, I miss her. This is an indescribable ache that transcends physical pain.
