CARLA VALE I almost did She studied me for several seconds, and then her expression softened. "Do you really hate me?" The question struck me harder than I expected, and my chest tightened as I stared at her. I had spent so much time pushing her away that perhaps she had actually started believing I hated her, and somehow, that thought hurt more than it should have. "No, I don't hate you. I can't hate you," I answered immediately. The words escaped before I could stop it, and Samantha's eyes widened slightly at how quickly I had responded. "Then why do you keep pushing me away? Why do you keep treating me like I am some baggage from your past?," she asked, and hurt flickered across her face as she folded her arms. "Why do you act like I'm some kind of problem you have to avoid?," she continued. I noticed that the more she spoke, the more hurt she sounded. I looked away because she was right. "You don't want the answer," I murmured, and my voice became quieter as I struggl
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