Her touches didn't faze Darren. He was too wrapped up in his own head for them to be comforting. He numbly watched her fingers, until they lifted his chin.
This felt silly. Bearing his soul was not his point in coming here, but his mouth was getting away from him. He always had doubts. He couldn't help himself. He could barely put up with himself, so how Devon could bear it all? He had no idea.
"No," he replied with a slow shake of his head in defeat. "I don't." He tilted his face into her touch and met her eyes, again. "But I want you to trust me."
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