“It doesn’t mean I’m ashamed of you. I would shout it from every rooftop in Winslow if you wanted me to. I just… you’re the first thing in my life they haven’t controlled. You’re mine,” he sighed, shifting closer and resting his forehead against mine. “To hold hands with, to kiss, to… be myself around. I’m afraid once they know about you, about us, I won’t have that anymore. We’ll be under a fucking microscope and I don’t want that for either of us.”
