“It’s over, Dean,” she tells me. “Our relationship was wrong from the start. Nothing built out of violence and lies and coercion could ever turn into something good.” “That’s not true!” I cry. “It can be whatever we want it to be. It’s our choice what it becomes, it doesn’t matter how it started.” She shakes her head at me, her eyes sad and unbelieving. It doesn’t help that I can barely contain my frustration every time she shuts me down again. I’m trying to prove to Cat that I can be calm, controlled, reasonable, but it’s driving me insane that she won’t speak to me, that she won’t give me
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