The girl was over him for the most part, but there was still
something gradually tearing holes in her delicate heart like a dog
might tear at a bone. It was the ragged, gaping crevice he had left
behind. It was missing having someone who needed her. It was
knowing that every happy moment she might have had to dwell upon
when he was gone was, in all actuality, a lie. A stupid, obvious,
painful lie.
