He pulled out a picture slowly handing it to me. It was a picture of a lovely young woman hugging a little girl. She looked about three or four. I traced my finger over them, “They are both beautiful.” I glanced up at him as tears filled his eyes.
He was slow to respond this time, “…That was my wife and child.”
Was? …Was? What did he mean? I laid my head down on him wrapping my arm around him. I didn’t know what to ask, what to say, or even how I was feeling at this very moment.
The warmth of his fingers trailed up and down my back, “I suppose I should explain.”