I look up at his face. It’s a face I have loved, a face I still love. A face that looks anguished by the hurt he has caused. I believe it, believe that he is sorry.
I shake my head. “I could never hate you,” I exhale.
He searches my face, hearing the ‘but’ I didn’t say.
“I just wish,” I whisper, “more than anything, that it hadn’t been you who broke my heart. I never thought it would be you - I never thought you could do anything wrong. I wish more than anything it hadn’t happened, that we didn’t end like this.”