“It’s okay to hate me for not being her.” “I don’t hate you. I’m just so fucking—” “Mad,” I finished for him, a tear sliding down my cheek. “Bitter. Terrified. Heartbroken. Lost. Confused.” He slanted his head, pained understanding crinkling his forehead. “Yeah. All of it.” “Me too.” A heart-wrenching sob I could no longer contain ravaged my body, but in the next beat, I was in his arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his strong arms wrapping around me. “I’m so fucking sorry. I wish I could have saved all of you.”
