One Year

One year since 2 deaths. One year of watching Smith leave, and hoping he'd come home. One year of watching the kids, and wondering if they had the same hope and wish that I do. The other night I started thinking about how it had been one year, and was hit with a wave of fear I'd never felt before. I wound up curling against Smith and holding on tightly, not caring about how hot it was that night. Maybe he knew what was going through my head, because he didn't move away and I got to hold on until I was ready to let go.