“Yes,” Eli says. “That’s why it matters. Because I’m so in love with you that I feel like I can’t breathe. I think it every time I look at you, every time you let me in or you laugh or you look at me like I mean something to you. I know it’s fucking messy, and I know you hate that, but it’s also true.” I feel like I’m being pulled apart string by string, like everything that I’ve kept inside is being unraveled by him. I’m being methodically disassembled, all my tender parts exposed. “I can’t do this,” I breathe. His expression collapses. “Why?” “Because I want to keep you!”
