If I died, I had the relief of oblivion. I wouldn’t experience pain or sadness; I would simply be gone. But if someone I loved died, I’d have to live without them forever. The pain of that would eclipse anything else I’d ever felt—especially if that someone was Asher. Because I didn’t just love him; I was in love with him. I was so in love with him that the thought of him dying made me want to die. The realization struck me with the force of a bullet, and the sentiment was so foreign, so all-consuming, that I had no idea how to handle it.
