A Good Book (Sunday Morning, #3)

by Jewel E. Ann

When we were younger, I didn’t know my desire to spend all my free time with her was actually my first crush. Though, by the ninth grade, I knew I’d never love another human being the way I loved her. If only I hadn’t been scared out of my mind to tell her.

“Gabbs, grieving isn’t a group sport. It’s the most personal emotion a human is capable of feeling. If you dropped ten vases from the exact same distance onto the same floor, they would all break differently. One or two might not break at all or just have a chip out of them. But no two would have the same number of pieces. No two would be put back together in the same way. No one knows exactly what Ben is feeling or how long it will take for him to feel pieced back together. And you can’t do it. Nobody can put Ben back together except Ben. You’ll only get cut if you try to fix him.”