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“Those plants look mutilated.” I look to the pots in question. Remorse stings my throat as I cringe. “I tried to keep them alive.” Nick’s throaty chuckle curls my toes in my shoes. “With what?” he deadpans without looking in my direction. “Bleach?”
Dreams need time to prosper and grow—and I firmly believe that they unfold when you can personally handle them manifesting, never before.”
“Without the night,” Nick says, voice pitched low, “there are no stars.”
“I love her. Mina, I love Mina.”
I never break hearts—but tonight I broke two.
“I love him.” I exhale quietly, hands folded in my lap. “I think I loved him when I was seventeen and he danced me around your mom’s living room. I think I loved him even on his wedding day because the relief I felt—” I break off with an uneasy laugh, but at Effie’s patient expression, I let myself continue even as my cheeks burn with embarrassment. “We laid in that bed and all night I thought one thing: maybe now. Maybe now he would look at me as something more than his little sister’s friend. Maybe now he would hold my hand instead of letting our fingers kiss, and nothing more. Maybe now . .
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If this ends with her in my arms, I’ll do anything she fucking wants.

