“Yes,” he clipped.
He loved me.
Bullshit.
I reached to the mattress, found the edge of the photo, yanked it out, and showed it to him.
His eyes went to it.
No reaction.
Not. One. Thing.
Seriously?
“Do you love her?”
He looked to me but said nothing.
“Do you have children?”
“No,” he bit out.
At least there was that. Daddy wasn’t a philanderer.
“Can she give them to you?”
His jaw clenched.
She couldn’t.
He wanted kids.
Enter me.
“Do you have a dog?”
He said nothing.
“A cat?”
Nothing.
“A gerbil?”
He gave me not one thing.
I stopped speaking.
Deacon didn’t move.
Neither did I.
We stared at each other across the room, her picture between us.
This lasted a lifetime.
“Say something,” I begged on a whisper.