"Don't be sorry. It wasn't your fault," I say, looking up when the waitress comes back with our beers, but I don't let go of his hand.
"Apart from nearly dying twice, the last few months," I say with a smirk, and by now I'm mostly used to the slightly tighter pull of scar tissue when I smile, "Things are kinda good, right now."
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"Apart from nearly dying twice, the last few months," I say with a smirk, and by now I'm mostly used to the slightly tighter pull of scar tissue when I smile, "Things are kinda good, right now."