“I'm telling you this because it's hard and it takes time, but you'll get there.” “I'll be fixed?” she whispers, and I can hear the hope in her voice. “Like you?” I chuckle and hold her tight, determined to ignore the ticklish sensations her exploring fingers send through my body. “Oh, I'm not fixed. I'm as broken as ever. But you get better at hiding it. And you get better at being broken.”
