“You love July.” My anger is starting to surface, and I know that I need to stop before I say something I can’t take back. “I do,” she whispers. I can see tears forming in her eyes. “Talk to me; tell me what the fuck is going through your head?” I yell. Her eyes meet mine, and there is so much pain looking back at me that I flinch. “I can’t do it,” she whispers, right before she runs out of the house. It takes a second to realize that the sound I hear is her car spitting up gravel in the driveway. “Fuck!” I roar, picking up her pill case and crushing it in my fist, before I throw them across
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