I remember this place so differently. I remember sunlight and music spilling out through a propped-open door. I remember a woman in a red dress spinning like she didn’t know anyone was watching, like the whole world had melted away and left behind only her and the song.
I remember her tripping, how she stumbled right into my arms, looked up at me with those brown eyes, and laughed, as if falling into a stranger was the most natural thing that could be.
God help me, I never stood a f*****g chance.
The ground tonight is hard from the early spring frost. My shovel bites into it with a sound like grinding bones. I dig in the darkness. Warm blood soaks through my shirt as the stem cell extraction sites tear open and leak.
As I dig, I hold her promise in my head.
“Kirill can never know I ch
