too.
And for a few moments, everything felt wonderfully ordinary.
Later that night, after Poppy was asleep, Adrian joined me on the porch.
The air was cool.
The fields were quiet.
He stood beside me for a while before speaking.
“I read your letter again.”
I turned toward him.
“What did you think?”
He looked down.
“You told me you weren’t asking for financial help.”
“That’s right.”
“You said you loved me.”
I looked away.
“And you wrote that if I didn’t want to be involved, you would understand.”
I
