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“Right and the Mona Lisa is just a painting”

“Did you just colanced tohat she’d spenton It needed to be bisqued, painted, and glazed still, but pride swelled in her chest as she stared at the piece She smiled at her best friend “It’s not nearly that spectacular, but it’s the best I’ve ever done by far, so thank you”

“It’s a” Amy plopped down on the sofa next to her and stared at the piece “If I could ive it to Greg”

She didn’t bother pretending that she didn’t knohat her friend meant She knew Just as Amy knew As always, she’d made a piece of herself—but for the first tied from her clay

She walked over to the table, stared at the piece It was abstract, but there was no denying the heart overflowing from the hands that held it

Jack’s hands

Her heart

Because Jack held her heart

“Jack is a travelingin a Jeep I don’t think he’d want to lug this thing around in Jessica”

She thought back to the day she’d gotten sick, the day he’d left, to his words as he’d stood by her bed She’d pretended to be asleep because she hadn’t trusted herself to say another word She’d needed hi soul and how hard she’d worked for her independence and begged him to stay

Not just until her illness passed, but for forever

He’d cared for her She knew he cared Had she asked hiht have stayed But how could she bind him that hen the very essence of him was freedom?

“He’s in Chattanooga, you know”

No, she hadn’t known She’d not heard froht Neither had she reached out to hi the life she wanted, the life she’d worked hard for, and so was he

Her fingers itched to run over the hands holding her heart Jack’s hands