C65 Remorse
Lucien turned on the bedside lamp and in the muted light, I saw the deep furrows in his face.
He looked as though he had aged overnight. A few months ago, I would have wanted to take him in my arms, stroke his unshaven jaw, kiss that firm mouth.
Not so, not anymore.
Pushing the thoughts back, I asked, bluntly,
"What are you doing here? I want to see my children