"This? You mean us?" "It's hell, Zane." "It isn't hell if you like the way it burns, sweetheart." She exhales a shaky breath. "Do you like the way it burns?" "I like you." I'm an asshole. Because that's not enough, and I already know that. Because how could it possibly ever be enough for her? "Then I guess that's where we have a problem because I'm past that. I'm…" She stops, her voice trailing off like she's afraid to say it out loud. Like maybe if she doesn't say it, it won't be real. "You're what?" I shouldn't ask. I shouldn't need to hear it. "I don't know, Zane." "Finish what you
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