"He didn't want me. And she didn't want me either!"
"I was just a ball, kicked back and forth between two people who both despised me!"
He laughed at himself then, eyes filled with emptiness. "So, Elaine, I don't have the kind of happy family you do. My life's been broken from the start."
"Do you understand?"
At that moment, I truly believed his heart was breaking—and mine broke with it.
I sat beside him quietly and said, "Iñigo, someone will love you one day. She'll pick up your broken pieces one by one, saying, 'This part is mine too, that piece is mine as well."'
"And when she's done, she'll stay by your side—help you piece yourself back together, and love you until you're whole again."
I had meant every word.
Later, he chased me openly, relentlessly—until everyone around us was rooting for him.
He once took a 36 hour hard-seat train ride just to bring me my favorite pastry from another city.
Back when his company was still struggling and he could barely afford dinner, he still spent thousands on a birthday cake because I'd mentioned it once in passing.