I miss you. Sometimes, when I am sleep deprived, and mildly drunk, I wonder if you are a hallucination, a mirage that will fade when I search for you. If this is true, I hope never to wake up. Hale watched as Sidony linked arms with Catherine and went inside. He watched her brilliant smile and pink, chaffed cheeks. Joy, he thought. And comfort. Comfort—the sweet warmth of her body; and joy—the bright expanse of her heart. Or maybe it was the other way around, with the comfort he found in her nearness and the incandescent joy he found in her passion. He couldn’t decide, quite. It didn’t matter this Christmas. She was no longer theoretical, no longer an idea, a hope. She was here. So was he. Too late, he noticed Geoffrey beside him with a curious expression. “Are you all right?” his friend asked. Hale forced a smile. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Geoffrey shrugged.
