Wait for me.” The words come out choked and pained. “I need you to wait for me.

No one told me you can love someone and still be miserable. How is that possible?

I love you,” he says again, “and no other man will ever say those words and mean them the way I do.

What’s going to happen,” he breathes, “is that I’m going to carry you through this door. I’m going to draw out every single moment until you’re exhausted. And I’m going to move so slow that three months ago will feel like yesterday. And tomorrow will feel like today, and no one in this fucking universe will be able to say your name without saying mine.

I’m remarrying you, Lil. Fuck, I’d remarry you a hundred times until it stuck.

Fine. Such a stupid word really. It feels empty and weightless. It’s the kind of word you use to hide the truth.