“You said you were coming back, Carter. You said that. But you …” I pry my face from his neck, swiping at my sopping cheeks as he holds me. “Why haven’t you come back to me?” Shame tints his cheekbones. Carter takes a seat on the step, setting me on his lap, and smooths my hair back from my damp face as Dublin lies beside us. “It’s still broken, Ollie. I have to fix it before I deserve to come back to you.” “No,” I say firmly, fisting his shirt in my hands. “That’s not what you taught me. You taught me to communicate. You taught me to lean on you when I need strength, and you’re supposed to
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