“So, you, me, the couch. It’s a date.” I hear the hitch in her breath and catch the way her chest rapidly expands for a second before it falls. “We live together. It doesn’t need to be a date.” “It’s Valentine’s Day. Humor me, Jos,” I playfully supply. I’d prefer it to be real. I want it to be real. I want and need her but…I’m too fucked up. So, playing pretend will probably be the only way I get to have her.
