“I just,” he said. “She’s the one.” What I knew then was this: he had clearly been in love with her the whole time. I didn’t know if it was betrayal, but I knew it didn’t feel good. Suddenly this bubble I’d created for myself—one without heartache—burst. I wasn’t the anonymous feel-good girl from LA. I was a girl with a history, and he was a man who couldn’t let go of his.
