I cut my stepdaughter’s late mom’s dresses

in his gaze I don’t recognize right away, something distant, something guarded.

“You came,” he says quietly.

“Of course I came,” I reply, stepping closer, my voice softer now. “What happened?”

He lets out a slow breath, his eyes drifting to the ceiling for a moment before coming back to me. “What happened?” he repeats, almost like he’s tasting the words.continue reading …