Imogene Scott

The microwave dings, pulling me out of my thoughts, and I nearly jump. I let out a small breath and move to open the door to pull out the bowl of popcorn. The heat radiates from it as I place it carefully on the center table.

Lily is perched on the couch, busy playing with her plush rabbit and completely absorbed.

I glance at the clock on the wall. 7:16. Damien was supposed to be here at 7. My heart does a little flip, and my stomach twists in that familiar, uncomfortable knot. What if he doesn’t come? What if he’s having second thoughts? I run a hand...