#Chapter 64: The Picture

Ardal Kadeem’s hand interlocks with mine and a familiar warmth floods over me. Five children are giggling and hollering feet away, but they fall to a dim background hum. Amber afternoon light spills from the windows, highlighting Kadeem’s chiseled features and chocolate brown eyes. The worn leather band of his watch is pressed against my wrist, a gentle reminder of the passage of time, even in a moment that seems endless. We’re standing so close, I can find the rippling scar that lines his neck - a badge of survival from a vicious fight when he was 17. I can see the jagged one at his right temple - a trace of the car accident Susan used to erode what was left of our marriage. Just as easily, I see the constellations of freckles that dot his arms, and the dimple in his cheek that deepens when a smirk plays upon his lips. There’s the dark hair I used to rake my fingers through, the lip I used to softly bite, and the eyes that seem to darken when he grows angry or detached. The