“You’re not… there yet,” he says slowly. “You’re not ready.” “How do you know?” I croak. He opens his mouth, then shuts it. “How do you know what I can handle, if you won’t even let me try?” “Way—” “You told me I wasn’t a project, but if you don’t meet me halfway here, how am I ever supposed to believe that that’s not all I am to you?”
