I pulled the book from him. It was wet with tears running down the pages, as if...

I pulled the book from him. It was wet with tears running down the pages, as if the book itself were crying. He hid his face in his hands. Let me see you cry, I told him. I do not want to hurt you, he said by shaking his head left to right. It hurts me when you do not want to hurt me, I told him. Let me see you cry.

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