“I should go back and talk to him. I handled that so badly and he doesn’t deserve to be my punching bag because I’m stressed.” “No, but I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Those tears threatened to well up again and a lump rose in my throat. Would he forgive me? God, I hoped so. Because suddenly all I could think about was how empty my life would be without him. About how much I needed him. I didn’t want to need anybody—not like this—because that was a surefire way to get hurt, but damn it, I did. I didn’t just need him. I loved him. Oh my god, I loved that big, gigantic, mysterious, infuriating,
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