Probably both.
“I hope they know what they’re doing,” I muttered, grabbing the stress ball I’d been carrying ever since Kat got pregnant. I didn’t even remember when I started. I just… needed something to do with my hands. Something to keep me from grabbing her and locking her in a room where no one else could touch her or look at her or—
Okay, maybe I was spiraling.
I missed her.
Missed her scent, her voice, the way she curled into me at night, whispering nonsense until she fell asleep with her fingers twisted in my shirt.
I missed her laugh. The real one—not the polite chuckle she gave the seamstress or the soft “mmhm” she offered to council members. I wanted that belly-deep, snorting, unfiltered laughter that made her nose scrunch up and her eyes glow.
I missed her skin. The taste
