“I wouldn’t know, would I? Because the girl I’m in love with left me, just fucking left. I called you for a year, Bex. I grieved losing you and our baby for an entire year! Every fucking day, I wrote you, I called you, I left you long, pathetic messages. I missed parties. I’d look for you on campus, convinced one day you’d show up…until it was too much and I eventually lost my contract.” He seethed, his anger palpable and alive. My heart thrashed with horrible hope that I didn’t deserve, and that stupid place in my mind that was analyzing every little thing clung to the fact that he’d said
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