“Fuck, V, I’m so sorry. For everything.” You don’t know how to answer, so you grip his hand instead. “At least you’re here,” you say, and at that, his face crumbles. “I… I can’t.” You sit up straighter. “What do you mean?” “I have to go, V.” He jumps to his feet and starts pacing the room, hands tangled in his hair. “My parents are going to try to work things out, and they said we need to… put some space between our families. For now.”
