'I love you,' he said quietly.
She laughed. ‘No, you don’t. You think you do, because you think I can save you.’ She flicked ash off of her cigarette.
Before he could speak again, she continued. ‘And here’s the thing. I can’t. And even if I could, I wouldn’t.’ She turned to look at him, her expression suddenly very serious. ‘You have to learn how to take care of yourself. You’ve got to help yourself. You say you want to be happy, but all you do is think about how sad you are. I know it sucks. I know you think I can fix it all. But I can’t. I can’t,’ she sighed.
It seemed as if she spoke from experience. As if she’d tried to save someone but failed, and never forgiven herself. As if she’d learned the hard way.