My arm was around her belly, my face buried in her neck. She was a tiny little thing, and really I should be holding her, but all I wanted was for her to wrap her arms around me. Closeness. I wanted to be touching as much of her as I could. So my arm was around her belly, feeling it rise and sink in time with her breath and my face was buried in her neck, listening to her pulse hammer against her skin. And this would be the closest I would ever get to her. My lips won't flicker across her skin and her voice won't moan my name. The three little words my heart is begging me to say will not be uttered. They won't float into her ear as I suck her earlobe between my teeth. They won't make her heart constrict as I trail kisses down her chest. Because the closest I will ever get is my arm around her belly and my face buried in her neck.