Lila
We were done for the day. The sky had already turned dark, deep blue fading into black at the edges. Streetlights flickered on one by one as we strolled back toward the house. The air felt cooler now, carrying that sharp evening bite. Jerry walked beside me, hands in his pockets most of the way, chatting about random things — the worst ice cream flavor he’d ever tried, a funny story about Ken falling off a fence last month, how he once tried to ride a cow on a dare and ended up in the mud. I laughed more than I expected to. It felt good. Light. Like I could breathe without everything hurting.
Then, without warning, Jerry reached over and took my hand.
My whole body startled. I stopped walking. Turned to him. Looked down at our joined hands — his bigger, rough from work, mine small
