Outtake | Ch. 12 | [2016]

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I only intervene when she emits a sharp gasp and the crescent indentations turn red. 

Once we're both lying down on my bed, my arms wrapped around her from behind, my hands gently curled around her wrists, Demi whispers, "How could she do that to me? How could she send those pictures, knowing that they would trigger me, yet still claim to be in love with me? And - god, this is going to make me sound so stupid - how can she make me feel so guilty?"

"Guilty?" I murmur, wondering how and why she can possibly feel guilty. 

"Had I not told her that I wanted out of our relationship, she would not have resorted to harming herself."

"You didn't put that blade in her hand and you sure as hell didn't drag that blade across her arms so many times."

"I put the thoughts in her head." 

"She's sick, Dems. Even you couldn't have predicted or prevented this."

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