“It fucking killed me,” I said through the thickness in my throat. “My parents knew it would. They said we were going to move, that I wouldn’t have to live in the hurt. They told me to pack my things. And when I saw you on Monday, when I showed up to get my stuff from school… I thought maybe you’d run to me. I thought maybe they were wrong, that you’d change your mind, that you wouldn’t let your parents control you. But I saw it in your eyes. I saw how…”
