He sounded so defeated, as if he agreed with what my father had said. “Michael, please.” “I’m just . . . I’m sorry. But what he said really hurt me.” “Baby, he’s not me. What he said doesn’t reflect how I feel. I love you. That hasn’t changed.” “I know, and I love you too.” “But?” I knew it was coming. I could feel it. “But I think I need a little time.” My heart beat in my chest like a hummingbird caught in a snare. “Are you . . . are you breaking up with me?” He shook his head and fresh tears streamed down his face. “No. I don’t want to.” He chewed on his bottom lip. “But I need some time.”
