“I don’t want to keep fighting with you.” “Nor do I.” He strokes a tear off my cheek. “I should have told you.” And I should have asked. I should have known. I sniff. “You—you needed to do it. And I would have stopped you.” “No. You would have helped me find a better way.” His eyes don’t leave mine. “You always help me find a better way.”
this is healing and beauty.
