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Because whatever else I wondered after kissing Annie—after coming back to Annie, after saying things I shouldn’t have to Annie—the one thing I knew was that I was not in a place to be with anyone else.
I remember the miracle of it, that this vision of a girl once stood on tiptoe to fit her lips to mine, that when she felt my hands on her waist, she only kissed me harder.
Revenge doesn’t need to begin with a knife. It can begin with a well-delivered speech.
Even if we were never to kiss again, even if it were never more than this, it would be enough just to hold you.