The Last Letter

by Rebecca Yarros

“Don’t let go,” she whispered. Her hands were still between us, but she wasn’t pushing me away, they were simply resting on my pecs. If anything, she leaned in. “I’d forgotten what this felt like.” “Being hugged?” My voice was sandpaper-rough. “Being held together.”

As you get bigger, you’ll see that it’s not how you handle the wins that make you a good man, it’s how you handle the losses.”