Embracing His Rejection
My body went limp against his, my forehead resting against the cool leather of his jacket.
"Please," I whispered, the word breaking into a sob. The anger was gone, replaced by a desperate, pathetic begging. "Please, Matthew. If you love me, if you truly want to help me... just do it for me. Take a blade. Just get it out. I can't carry him. I can't be the one to give him life."
"Em, please, don't say that," he choked out, his own tears wetting my hair as he held me tighter.
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