“But I’m not a good person,” I cried out, feeling broken. “I’m a bad girl.” “That’s not true,” Hugh replied, voice thick with emotion. “Every single thing about you is good, Lizzie Young, and I’m your best friend, so I should know.” “But I’m bipolar,” I croaked out, feeling my body grow limp against his. He kissed my temple. “I know.” “That’s not good.” “Says who?” Sniffling, I choked out a pained sob. “Everyone.” “Not me.” He kissed my temple again. “I happen to adore that complicated mind of yours.” “It’s not complicated—it’s crazy.” “You couldn’t be more wrong if you tried,” he replied in a
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