Teresa's POV I couldn’t answer. I cried harder, ugly, wrenching sobs I couldn’t control. I hated it, hated the weakness, hated that he was seeing me come completely undone.“Hey… no, don’t…” He was moving now. I heard the soft thud of his laptop being carelessly dropped to the floor of the car. His hands were on my arms, gentle but firm, pulling my hands away from my face.“Look at me,” he said, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it.I couldn’t. I kept my eyes squeezed shut, tears streaming down my cheeks.He didn’t force it. Instead, he let go of my wrists and simply pulled me. I was pliant, broken. He lifted me from my seat and onto his lap in one smooth motion, my legs folding to the side. I tried feebly to resist, to push away, but he just gathered me closer, one arm wrapping around my back, the other hand cradling the back of my head, tucking my face against his neck.“Please stop crying,” he murmured into my hair, his own voice thick. “I can’t stand it.”“You don’t love me,”
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