She looked happier than I’d seen her since she’d arrived.
Without thinking, I reached out and brushed the flour away.
Her laughter stopped.
My hand remained beside her face.
“Sorry,” I whispered.
She shook her head.
“Don’t be.”
We stood there, close enough that I could see the tiny golden flecks in her eyes.
“Sarah…”
“Mark, please don’t say something clever.”
“That’s a very unreasonable request.”
She smiled nervously.
“I mean it.”
I took a breath.
“I know this is complicated.”
“Very.”
“I know you’re still trying to rebuild your life.”
“I am.”
“And I know I should probably keep my feelings to myself until everything is settled.”
She looked at my mouth, then back at my eyes.
“Probably.”
“But I’m getting very tired of doing what I probably should do.”
A small smile appeared on her lips.
“That’s a terrible argument.”
“I’m not finished.”
“I’m listening.”
I lowered my voice.
