Everything I’d done for the last few months pushed us to this moment, pushed us together, and forced her to be mine. I wouldn’t feel bad about that. It was cause for celebration, if you asked me. But I couldn’t show that. Not yet. I had to play the part of the mournful boyfriend. I had to make sure she was alright before I let her see my true happiness. How long could I hide it, though? How long could I pretend to be anything other than the monster everyone knew me to be? For her, I could wear this mask a bit longer. I could be what she needed until she was so ingrained in my life, she
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