"This is as good as it gets with me, Abigail. You know that. I've said it since the very beginning." I could hear a harsh bite in his tone and could feel him staring straight through me, even though I couldn't bring myself to look at him. I let my eyes dart around the room, focusing anywhere but his face - a pile of empty beer cans stacked high on the coffee table, burnt-out stumps of cigarettes littering the floor of my balcony, discarded clothes strewn about the tiny apartment. There was a bitter taste in my mouth and I needed to get it out. All I could say in response was a whispered, "I'm sorry, I love you," as quiet tears slid down my cheeks. "Please stop. Please don't cry. I didn't mean to make you cry." His voice is still low, but it's softer and the edge to it has dulled almost to the point of disappearing. "You know I love you, too...I just...can't." --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Abby Dawson was a romantic. Love was supposed to be like what you saw in the movies, right? That's what she always believed, at least until she met him. Harry Styles was broken. Love wasn't like what you saw in the movies. That's what he always believed, at least until he met her. Will she be able to show him everything she believes love can be? Or will he show her that dreaming about it is as good as it gets?