“You asked her to marry you?” Tears stream down my face as I scream at him and beat at his chest, trying to create a hole beneath his sternum that matches the crater under mine. “Why would you do that? Why would you do that to us? To me?” My voice cracks, all of my emotions spilling out of the split syllables, and Chris is calm. Stoic, even. The way he said I was when we had our first kiss. The thought sets a fresh wave of tears free, and I step away from him because touching him—even in the most violent sense of the word—hurts.
