“Are you seriously gonna tell me you haven’t thought the same?” he rushes out so unexpectantly, I freeze, the lip of the bottle paused against my waiting mouth. “That you didn’t wish it was me instead?” His voice trembles, but grows stronger, louder as he continues, “That you didn’t think it—” I whip around so fast, he flinches back. “No. No, I fucking didn’t.” His eyes widen, and he gulps. I take a step forward, and he takes several back. “I didn’t even let myself consider the possibility until you brought it up the other night,” I practically shout, flinging the hand holding the bottle out.
