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“Why are you sorry?” I reply. “One person’s pain doesn’t negate another’s. Our heartaches are not competition, but the bridge to empathy. So that we can look at one another and know that on some level, we understand. That’s one beautiful thing about grief, I think. That sometimes, we can find someone in the world to look at from the other side of the bridge of our torments and know that we are not alone.” The way Slade looks at me is so foreign, I can’t even place it. And then he leans down and places a kiss against my brow, the gesture so tender my heart almost hurts from it. “You are
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