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20. The One Where I Accept Us

My eyes burn at the bottle of the beer placed on the table. I couldn't drink anymore. I couldn't force something she wasn't comfortable with. She trusted me. And what of my love if I couldn't do anything to protect her?

She never asked me to leave the drinks. She knew I liked it and handled herself. Since when was she doing this? Torturing herself to be with me and handle the broken pieces of what happened. That's why she wasn't fond of clubs. Drinks, too many drunk people, but she came. For me.

How could I end us when she always thought about me? Maybe she never talks about love, but her actions spoke more than enough. And that's what mattered.

I ran my hand through her hair, too torn apart to tell her anything.

She broke her grip, leaned her head back.

"I'm sorry. I always cry whenever I'm drunk."

"Don't be stupid." I cleaned her tears with my thumb. "I'm your shoulder to cry on."

She chuckled lightly, but her eyes spoke the reality.

"Last time you too cried."

"Looks like I'm too cry
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