He has a wife. I think I stopped breathing. I watch Will as he gingerly touches the drawing. This pains me more. “Your wife?” I ask, dumbfounded. How can he have a wife? He’s not much older than I am. At least I thought he wasn’t. Apparently, I’m wrong. “She was. She-- she died. A long time ago.” The pang of jealous hurt inside me now turns into shame. She was his wife, his love. She died and left him. “I’m so sorry.” I move to him, resting my hand on his shoulder. His hurt eyes finally lift from the hand-drawn picture. They are deep, wallowed. “It was a long time ago.” He licks his lips. “Leah, I think I need to tell you the rest of that story now.” What? How can he just move on like that? How on earth does some stupid little history lesson compare to the grief I was the catalyst in making him relive?
What do You think about STAIN (My Soul To Wake Book 1)?
