“Harper, I..."You don't have to say it."I don't?"I know."You know what?"I lean against him, nestling in the crook of his arm. I talk into his neck. I don't need to be able to see to find the parts of him I know.That morning in the trailer, when we had it to ourselves, and you made me breakfast, I wondered whether you would tell me you loved me, if you'd ever tell me, and I looked at you, and I thought you were going to say it, but instead you went off on a tangent about boysenberry jam."And?"And it was funny. And it was close enough to the real thing for me. Just sitting there with you like that."Boysenberry jam?"Boysenberry jam."Harper," he whispers into my hair.Yeah?"I boysenberry jam you.”