" I’m not worth dying for,” she’d whispered that last night when she hadn’t thought I was still awake. “But you, Chase Abandonato… you’re worth living for, breathing for, existing for. The only way to break — is from being already broken.” “I am broken.” I’d whispered as if I was in a dream. “But…” She’d placed a hand on my chest, and my heart had surged to life. “You don’t have to be… "
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