“Even as a kid, I just wanted to be close to you, you know, there was always that what if that drove me to pick at you, to chase you, to love you harder, and then when we broke up, well, there was no more what if. At least not the kind of what if I wanted.” He glances up from his hands, his eyes soft. “I was stupid and hurt and angry at myself for moving.” “You had a scholarship.” I swallow because this is getting to me and I don’t want it to. “Yeah, but I had you.” He reaches out, trailing his hand down the side of my face, and out of instinct, I turn to his touch, my eyes closing. “Had I
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