“Only when I sleep,” she confesses, but I know she’s lying to me with her dream time statistics.
“Are you sure that’s the only time you think of him?”
Her head on the pillow, she turns away, looking toward the wall, so she can avoid my eyes, “Yes.”
A leaden minute drags by, like a body dragged behind a car.
“When was the last time you dreamed about him?”
“An hour ago,” she concedes, as she rises from the bed, tiptoes into the bathroom, and… Continue