“You’re leaving me? Now?” A tear streams down his cheek. “It’s not like that, V. I have to.” Ignoring him, you say, “Your parents tell you to let me go, and you just agree? Just like that?” He falls to his knees next to your bed, hands holding tight to the white railing. “We just think you and I should spend a little time apart. That’s all.” Your shoulders stiffen. “You think or your parents think?”
