“I felt like I was suffocating.” My voice breaks on the word, and his hands slide into my hair, his eyes rising to mine again. “Like - like everyone was looking at me. And I’m used to feeling like… like I’m the wrong kind of woman, but with Libby it’s always been different. She’s the only person I’ve ever really felt like myself with, since my mom died. But it turns out Dusty was right about me. That’s who I am, even to my sister. The wrong kind of woman.”