You don’t have to say I love you to say I love you,” you said with a shrug. “All you have to do is say my name and I know.”
When I looked down at you, I was struck by how much of myself I could see in the shape of your eyes, in the light of your smile. “Sa Cassidy,” you instructed.
“Ursula,” I parroted.
“Now….,” and you pointed to your own chest.
“Can’t you hear it?” you said. ” When you love someone, you say their name different. Like it’s safe inside your mouth.