“I have a good thing here, Eden. I could move on and be happy, but you won’t let me. It’s like you live in my brain, and I can’t function without you, and I don’t know if it’s because I want you to be my…” His voice trails off on the word I know he struggles to voice—Madame. Clay was always so resistant to the labels. But he loved everything we did. “Or?” I say quietly. “Or if it’s because I just want you.”
