His tenderness, his concern—it made me want to scream until I lost my voice. He brushed away my tears with such care, and it tore me apart inside. I wanted to believe this was a nightmare. A cruel illusion conjured from my years of pain and loneliness.
But this was real.
I had always loved Phyllis. Loved him so deeply, it hurt to even breathe near him.
“I love you,” I said quietly, voice trembling, thick with agony.
He smiled, gentle and affectionate. “That’s all you wanted to tell me? You scared me,” he said with a soft laugh of relief before kissing my forehead, then the tip of my nose. His lips lingered, hovering just over mine, closing the distance—
I moved away.
The image of him kissing my brother’s wife flashed through my mind, turning my stomach.
“I’m just hungry,” I said quickly, lying through my teeth as I forced a bite of food into my mouth. My hands still wouldn’t stop trembling. Prison had broken parts of me I didn’t even know could crack. But throughout all those years, what kept me holding on was the hope that Phyllis cared—that he was still waiting, that the truth would somehow save me.
Now, I wished the darkness of prison had swallowed me whole.