“Of course you would. You’d do anything for the people you love.” The way he says it is rough and nearly affectionate, a fuzzy approximation of the tone he’d whisper in my ear, press into the side of my neck. Against my mouth. I don’t know why that ties a knot in my throat, but suddenly it’s hard to swallow. I would do anything for the people I love: move to New York. Pretend to be friends afterward. Save a wedding. “But I will, too,” Eli continues. “So we’re going to have to do this together. We can split up the tasks, but I’m not staying behind.”
