EIGHTY | UNFORESEEN

I pulled my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them firmly. A thrill ran through me at the feel of my own body heat, radiating through the thin fabric of my pyjama bottoms. I wriggled my toes in my fluffy socks, squeezing them together to feel the warmth pooling there.

Had I been able to cry again, I would have been blinking back tears at the sensation. Even alone, without Skye’s body heat to warm me, the feeling of temperature – real temperature, not just an assessment of it – was heady and overwhelming, and entirely enjoyable.

For the first time since David’s death, my shower had been an utterly pleasant experience. I’d focused on the hot water, on the oozing steam, and I’d been overcome by the feeling of the heat on my bare skin, and the fresh chill as I’d stepped out and into my towel.

I didn’t want to take this lightly. It was a gift, no matter the cause of