It was a cool spring day when my love held my hand for the first time in weeks. Her eyes, filled with wonder, tore away from the falling cherry blossoms when she said, “Your hands are cold.”

I pulled away with a half hearted smile, rubbing my hands together, “Sorry. I’ll warm them up for you.”

She shook her head, knotting our hands together again. “No, you don’t need to do that. I’d gladly let you share your cold with me.”

My heart skipped a beat. I let myself feel her skin while her arms prickle with goosebumps.

It took hours for me to finally let her go.