He doesn’t get credit for that,” I say. “I didn’t ask him to break someone else’s heart.”
“No,” she agrees. “But it was still a cost. Even if he handled it badly. Even if Elena’s better off without him. This is my point, Lu: he’s not clean. But he’s not cold, either. You keep telling yourself he is because it makes it easier to be angry than to deal with the fact that he might actually love you in a way that’s completely f****d up and still real.”
The words land in my chest like broken glass.
I press a hand there, as if I can keep them from sinking deeper.
“If he loves me,” I say, “why does it always feel like I’m on a leash?”
“Because he doesn’t know how to love without holding on too tight,” she says simply. “Doesn’t mean he’s indifferent. Just means he’s damaged.”
“So am I,” I mut
