Right now, it doesn’t feel like something we can get past. But God, I want it to. Dylan steps forward and wipes his thumbs under my eyes. It’s only when they come away wet that I realize I’m crying. He gently kisses my forehead and then takes a step back, a look of absolute devastation crossing his face. “I’m too late, aren’t I?” he rasps. My heart cracks in two, and I’m pulled from my own torment. I can’t bear to see him like that…ever. His question put everything into perspective. The thought of never being with Dylan again pains me. I can’t imagine not being able to kiss him or touch him.
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