Tortured eyes meet mine, and I see his defiance, not against me, but against the stars lining up against us. Utter fucking disaster. “I don’t want to fucking leave. I don’t want to argue. I don’t want to hate myself. I don’t want to blame you. I’m tired of being angry at them, but damn them and . . . damn you, Cecelia, you were never supposed to know them, you were never”—his
