“I’ll see you tomorrow, I guess,” he said, one hand on the door. She opened her mouth, her lips parted, and waited for words to present themselves. Then he pulled her close, crushing her into a hug, and, pressed into his neck, her eyes stung with tears. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. For what? The wrongly purchased sugar? Margot slipping away from her? The lies? “I still want to be in this together if you do.” She felt his breathing, uneven, and she held him tighter, aware of the buttonhole roses crushing against her back, of her parents looking on from the next room. She inhaled in the familiar
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Real. I feel like i am piglet!!
