For one terrible second I thought she would pull away.
She didn’t.
Her body sagged against mine instead, exhausted by the weight of carrying all of it.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Rachel, I’m so sorry.”
“You can keep saying that,” she said.
Her voice came out muffled against my shoulder.
“It won’t change anything.”
“I know,” I said. “I know it won’t.”
And I did know, there were some things apologies could never repair.
I held her and she let me, and I didn’t try to say anything else because there was nothing to say that was worth more than staying quiet and keeping my arms around her.
After a while her breathing steadied and the tears slowed down to a hiccup.
I stared down at her face pressed against my chest, feeling my chest tighten with each minute that passed.
This was what I had
