The Knocking Started Right After She Told Me He Was Mine

when I put my palm between his shoulder blades and hummed nonsense.

I don’t sing.

I haven’t sung since college, and even then nobody asked for it.

But he slept.

Emily watched from the couch, wrapped in a blanket, eyes heavy.

“You can stay,” she said.

I looked over.

“I mean tonight,” she added. “On the chair or the couch. Not… don’t make it weird.”

“As if the continue reading …