Shaking his head, he says, “Please don’t ask me to choose between you and my family.” Your throat tightens, like the God who decided to ruin your life with a flick of his finger is crushing your windpipe with his stiff hands. “Seems like you already did,” you get out, voice barely more than a whisper. Will closes his eyes, another tear following the path the first one drew on his tan cheek. Then, he leans forward and takes your hand within his, kissing each knuckle one by one. “I love you, Violet. Please remember that.”
