“It’s just...it’s hard for me to wrap my head around it. I didn’t know any different growing up. How can you be traumatized from something when it’s all you’ve ever known?” Jesus. Eyes burning—no doubt red around the edges—I force a smile. “Well, that’s why you got the bougee diagnosis.” He laughs wetly. “Just because you didn’t know any different, doesn’t mean it was right,” I tell him after a moment. He takes a deep breath. “I know, it’s just...” “Easier to pretend?” The dejection swimming in his hazel eyes slices me right fucking open. “I hate him. I think I’ve always hated him, but it’s
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