“Regardless of what this can or can’t be, please don’t diminish what it is.” My eyes opened and narrowed. “What exactly do you think this is?” Her delicate palms slid up the length of my torso and landed on my chest. “Something beautiful.” More fantasies. More pretty lies to help her sleep at night. “Beautiful things don’t last,” I said, trying to remain stiff and sharp-edged but tenderizing against her touch. I wanted to reach for the lie, too; weave it and mold it into something honest, something worth keeping, but I was too aware of everything it wasn’t. “I know. But they can still be
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