The ride home was quiet, but at least Florian let me hold until his hand tight. I watched his profile, my eyes blurred with tears. I hated myself for pushing him to this point. I hated myself for the blood I carried in my veins. I hated the time I wasted without letting myself go for someone who I knew would absolutely do it for me.

We finally got home, and Florian went out, then came around and opened the door for me. His eyes held mine for a long minute before he turned away, closing the car door, before he walked away.

I stopped by the door, watching his...