“Trust me. It takes a lot to break me after what my mind put me through for years, and I’ve already been at rock bottom. So you can try, but you won’t succeed.” His eyes widen for a fraction of a second, and then he shakes his head and looks down. When he looks back up again, he looks almost … pained. “Where have you been my whole life?” he asks. “Waiting for you,” I tell him. “We’re going to talk about your past when you’re ready.” My past. Right.
