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“This is my room,” he points out, affronted. “And that’s my wife.”
Maybe it isn’t the worst thing to want to be loved, even if you’re not. Even if it hurts. Maybe being human isn’t always being weak. Maybe it was the shame that was the problem.
I’m not sure what to say. I don’t feel calm at all. I am a maelstrom of emotions. All I want to do is scream.

