“I know,” I whispered back, “you hate me.” Deep down, I knew hatred was all I’d ever deserve from her. I leaned down, kissing her eyelids, her cheeks, her lips. Every wet spot I could find, every tear. I kept kissing her, because if that was all I could give her at that moment, I’d give it all. I kissed her like she was the air I needed to breathe. Gently, reverently. As if I could somehow piece her back together with the touch of my lips.”
