“Freya, when you told me you loved me in my car that day, I wasn’t ready to hear it then.” “And I’m not ready to hear you say it now, Mac!” Her hands lift helplessly. “You just lost your grandfather. You should be focusing on your grief, not using me as a crutch to get through your pain. You lost that right when you broke my heart two months ago.” Her words pierce through my heart, but what kills me is the finality of her tone.
