It's Like Looking Into Her Eyes

We discussed the car—the bug—Madeline had wanted so bad and both her mother and I gave into it. How it was one of the few things her mother and I had openly agreed about so close to her death. That it wasn't the safest or most reliable, but because Madeline had us both wrapped around her finger, we'd both given into her pouty wishes.

But we were back full circle again to the subject of Loretta blaming me for Madeline's death. Something I'd have to live with for the rest of my life. I glanced down at my hand, swallowing that reality down again, this time knowing without doubt it was the truth.

Her hand on mine from across the table had me looking up at her, but it was only for a moment because it was all I could take before I squeezed my eyes shut.

"What's wrong?"

"Looking into your eyes." I said, taking a deep breath but kept my eyes shut a bit longer until I gave in and opened them again, staring into hers. "It's like looking into hers. It's why I couldn't talk to you in Radcliffe