“Don’t be,” he tells me. “She wouldn’t want your apology.” “She sounds…” “Cold,” he finishes. “I was going to say like Rose, no offense.” His deep blue eyes rise to mine. “They’re not alike. Katarina doesn’t have the capacity to love someone other than herself. If anything, she’s more like me.” “Was…like you,” I say. He’s finally admitted to loving Rose. He smiles. “Love still seems like an irrational concept to me.” He pauses. “But in believing in it, I’ve become like everyone else.” “Are you okay with that?” “More than okay,” he admits.
