Sunday, November 23, 2014

She turned to leave, but he suddenly reached out and grabbed her hand. Neither of them wore gloves, and she felt the callouses of his fingers, the warmth of his palm. Somehow, his touch made her feel more substantial than she usually did in this household. He knew her, he saw her, where everyone else tried to forget her. She realized she had been getting used to the feeling of having lost her identity.

“I meant what I said,” Gerard said. “I am glad to see you. For me, you are part of the Christmas season.”

—From The Spinster's Christmas

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