“I love you,” I tell her. “I’ve loved you. I can’t imagine losing this, but I only wanted more—for a second. That’s all it was,” I say, as if I hadn’t been wanting more for six months. Longer. I squeeze her waist. “I jumped the gun. I never thought I’d hear you say ‘I love you,’ and then you did. It made me think I could have everything, but I moved too fast, okay? Let’s forget this.” “You can’t unsay it,” she whispers.
