“And something else. Something I didn’t have the language for. It was growing between us, and I didn’t know how to name it. Even when I could finally imagine life as something shared. Even when I trusted you. Even when my mind was always full of you. There had never been anyone like you, and for a long time I didn’t have the word.” “What word?” “Love.” The world stopped. Tipped over. Returned to its original state—but brighter. Sharper. Sweeter. Perfect. “If you still want me to love you, I really think I can love you back. Because I already do.”
