‘You’re a wonderful person, you really are.’ He kept quietly saying the phrase, as if enough repetitions could wipe the hurt from my face and return color to my drained cheeks.

I hated the sound of his voice. I cut him off.

‘I know I’m wonderful. And my life is full of plenty of people who make sure I know that every day. And those people don’t treat me like shit.’

He looked down at his clenched hands and finally stopped talking.


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