FURIOUS

King flashed through her mind. She saw the image of him, naked in the sheets just before she’d left his bedroom earlier that day. He had watched her as she left, a sad look on his face.

She had been too afraid to look at him a second time. She knew that if she had, it would have been impossible for her to resist running back into his arms. And now, she wondered if it was the last time she was ever going to see him again.

It occurred to her that she never got to forgive King. If she died today, he was going to live the rest of his life believing she had died without forgiving him. Somehow, that was the one thing that hurt her the most, and she suddenly wished she could go back to that morning, and spend the day in bed with him.

She forgave him. Deep in her heart, she knew she had forgiven him a long time ago. She wished that she had told him. She wished he had known. The pain of the realization left a deep cut that ran through her chest. A foul, gaping wound.

She thought about her baby