“You matter to me, Ally. Do you get that? I care about you. And yet you insist on not taking what I can offer you. I need you safe. I need you warm and happy and fed and rested. Goddammit, Ally. You are killing me with this stupid pride.” She was staring up at me wide-eyed and dazed. “You can’t make me leave you here. You have to understand that, Ally.” “Why are you so mad?” she whispered. “Why? Because I live in a three-bedroom townhouse with all the heat and food and fucking solid floors I could ever want. And this whole time you’ve been here. Your front door doesn’t even lock.”
