“What do I want?”
“I’m glad you’re sober. I can’t have a relationship with you. But I’m not the little girl at the window anymore. That girl survived. And she doesn’t need you to come back. She’s already home.” “What do I want
But the story her body remembered was different. It remembered waiting by the window. It remembered the sound of a car that never came. It remembered making a silent vow: I will never need anyone that much again. “What do I want