"Maybe but I don't care," I shoot back.
He grabs my arm. Not really hard but not gentle either. Just enough to make his point.
"Don't say that," he says, teeth clenched. "Don't ever say that."
I yank my arm free. "You don't own me. You don't get t "save me" from things I choose."
"You weren't thinking right," he says.
"I was thinking clearer than I have in years," I scream. "For once I wasn't scared."
His eyes flick over my face, searching, like he's trying to understand something.
"You think killing him would've fixed it," he says quietly.
"I think it would've maybe stopped him from doing it to someone else," I fire back.
The car continues moving through the city, the silence now thick and brutal.
I turn away again, folding into myself, arms wrapped tight like I can hold myself together through sheer force.
My voice comes out quieter this time
"You took that from me."
Neither of us speaks after that.
