“Here’s what you really don’t want to hear,” he goes on. “What we have is a fairy tale. It is a dream come true. And it’s imperfect. I wish you could understand it can be both. Fiction is fiction and it’s real. They’re not opposites. They live within each other.” His voice is raw, his expression naked. While anger is the fire in him, I recognize pain is the kindling. “The worst part is, I think you love me, too. I think you know we’re soul mates. But we’ll never be together as long as you’re afraid of your own happiness.”
