“I love you when you’re somebody else.” 

“He would have loved you more if you were dead.” She said matter-of-factly, mouth half-full, as she moved pasta around her plate. 

I soaked her in. This is how she maybe would have looked if things would have been different. This is how we would have treated each other and this is how we would have felt. Our candied tornado fallout at my feet while I fell back in love with the way she moved across a room and the truth-telling galaxies underneath her skin.