A tear rolls down his cheek and lands on our knuckles. Then another.
“You changed me,” he explains. “Before you, I was just running my father’s errands and calling it a life. The things I did were… They were horrible, to say the least. And then you bit through my glove, and I was done. Right then. First night. It was a kill shot through the heart, but not the one that was supposed to happen.”
Another tear splashes on our hands. I feel it spread warm across my frozen knuckles.
“I don’t deserve you. I know that. I broke into your home. I terrorized you. I put a gun to your back and made you smile for your neighbor while I stood behind the door. I beat him half to death because he asked you to dinner.” He swallows hard. “I watched you through a camera. I followed you to this playground and
