“And what do you want me to say? Huh? What part of what you missed would you like me to tell you?” He flinches but lets me continue. “That I never knew how to grieve for her? That I wished I could think of nice memories I had of her, but that the mess that surrounded her death made it impossible?” The phone digs into the skin of my hands from how strongly I hold it. “That sometimes, when I’d think of her, I wished she could come back just so I could punch her in the face for how bad she hurt me? Hurt us?” My voice cracks over the last word, just as a tear escapes my eye. I wipe it fast with
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