“No, I didn’t want it to get all musty.” “Why didn’t you donate it?” “You weren’t dead. I didn’t want to part with…” she confessed and then looked away, embarrassed. Marsha put her hand on Heather’s arm, the first touch since they had seen each other. “It’s going to take time.” Heather looked at the hand and then followed it up the fine material covering her wife’s arm to look into Marsha’s eyes. “I’m sorry,” she said sadly as she took Marsha in her arms. Marsha sobbed a little as she felt enveloped by her wife’s hug. The feel of someone holding her that loved her, beyond her children, was something she had longed for, for so long. She could feel what she had been holding in for so long, slipping ever so slightly. She closed her eyes as she smelled the smell that was uniquely Heather. Her nose nuzzling into her neck, clutching hard for something they had lost. “I’ve missed you,”
