“Did you talk about me to your friends?” “Sometimes,” she admits. “Mostly I tried not to because I’d miss you, but yeah. I had to brag about you.” “Brag?” I respond with a chuckle. “I don’t know what I’ve ever done that was brag-worthy. My dad would say you’re full of shit.” “Your dad is an asshole,” she reminds me. “He never knew a thing about you or your heart, and if he says heaven doesn’t want you, then give me hell any day of the week.”
