I looked over at Damon, who still hadn’t started the car. He gripped the wheel, his bottom lip trembling as he stared through watery eyes out the windshield. “I didn’t love her,” he said, almost to himself. But his face was twisted in sadness and despair as tears spilled over, falling down his dirty face. “I don’t know why it hurts,” he told me. “I didn’t love her.”
fuck
