When there was nothing left inside, she drew back, feeling shaky, and tried to smile. “I guess I’ve been holding that in.” “That’s what you do.” “You say that like it’s a bad thing. Should I fall apart?” “Maybe.” Meredith shook her head. It only made her feel more separate when he said things like that. He seemed to think she was a vase that could break and be glued back together, but she knew that if the worst happened—if she shattered like glass—some pieces could be lost forever.
