“Tasha. Stop.”
She spun toward me.
For a second, she looked almost relieved.
Then she shoved both hands against my chest.
“Tell her!” she shouted. “Tell her what you were like with me. Tell her how you used to beg me not to leave!”
I didn’t touch her.
I didn’t push her away.
I simply stood still.
“Yes,” I said. “I begged you to stay. I was afraid of being alone. I was afraid that if you left, it meant I wasn’t worth loving.”
Her expression changed.
She hadn’t expected me to admit it.
“But I was wrong,” I continued. “And I won’t spend the rest of my life paying for that mistake.”
She shoved me again.
“You ungrateful—”
“You didn’t love me the way I needed to be loved, Tasha. You needed me to prove my love every day, and no amount of proof was ever enough.”
She looked at Diane.
