After I roll over and turn it off, I look at the picture Grammy gave me after I got out of the hospital. It’s a picture of Ben sitting on the front porch and grinning. God, I miss him. I sit up in bed and stretch my arms above me. A sharp pain stabs my side and I jerk my hands down. Occasionally, I get pains from where the bullet went in, but they are thankfully few and far between. I get up and pad over to the closet, stopping at the jacket that still smells like him. Unable to help myself, I inhale the familiar scent and smile. Today is a big day. Today, I am bringing him home. After searching through the closet, I settle on a spaghetti-strap dress that goes to my knees. I hardly ever wear dresses, but I want to be pretty for him. In a naughty move, I opt to not wear a bra or panties. This will be the first time in almost a year that we’ve been able to be together and I want to make it easy for him. Very easy. My phone rings, so I step into some flip-flops and run to answer it. I take notice of the delicious smell of bacon and my stomach grumbles.
