He'd written me up a proposal of why dating him was a sound decision. It had included things like "I'll give up cigarettes unless I really, really need one" and "I'll unleash romantic surprises every week, such as: an impromptu picnic, roses, or a trip to Paris—but not actually any of those things because now they're not surprises.
In an undertone, I murmured, "This isn't over. I won't give up on you." "I've given up on you," he said back, voice also soft. "Love fades. Mine has.
You'd give up drinking to go see your dad?" "Well, not permanently," he said. "That'd be ridiculous. But maybe I could switch to something slightly cheaper for a while. Like...slushes. Do you know how much I love those? Cherry, especially.
It's worth it. It's worth giving up the sun and magic.
And I figured you'd drive a four-hour round-trip before giving up your car to someone else
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