Silence stretched between them, the thought of his father reinforcing everything she knew about this man and their nonexistent future. He wouldn’t marry. He wouldn’t have children. The line ended with him. Whether or not she loved him. Tell him. She took a deep breath. “I wished to say . . .” Good Lord. It was difficult. “What is it?” She couldn’t meet his eyes, her gaze falling to his hand, where it was fisted at his thigh, knuckles white, as though he was holding something tightly. She spoke to that hand, beginning again. “I wished to say . . .” I wished to say that I am not sure I can live
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