She laughs humorlessly. “You don’t know how to give up, do you?” “What can I say? My middle name is Jesus.” I chuckle, hoping it masks the hollowness behind it. “Let me try.” “You’ll regret it,” she announces, already defeated. Did she somehow get closer, or did I? I only scooted an inch, or was it more? Why am I even focusing on that? “That’s not going to happen. I promise.” And I mean that. “We’ll see…” I don’t know who gave up on her, but I know I won’t.
