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Booker:I deserve your anger, Macie, and I never want your pity. I didn’t tell you right away for that very reason.
Macie:Thank you for telling me now.
Booker:You remember the first time we snuck away to make-out?
Macie:Booker, don’t you think we should discuss your accident? I mean, what else did the docs say? Are you healing? Is there anything that could come up later?
Booker:I’m lying in a hospital bed in the middle of nowhere with my constantly crying mother for company. I don’t want to talk about my injuries. I want to talk about us. Please, Macie.
Macie:Okay…if that’s what you need.
Booker:Thank you, baby. Now, tell me about that first time.
Macie:I was fifteen and all you’d done up until that night was kiss me or hold my hand. You were such a gentleman.
Booker:We had the rest of our lives together. I wasn’t in a hurry.
Macie:We took your momma’s truck down to the tank behind your house. It was pitch black out there, always a million stars in the sky. You put all those blankets in the bed of the truck, brought that homemade fudge from the church bake sale.
Booker:I’d been in love with you since I was nine years old. I’d never kissed someone like that either. We were so clumsy.
Macie:It was perfect. I love that we had all our firsts together.
Booker:You bit me.
Macie:It was an accident, but you liked it. I was so shocked when you growled like that. I’d never heard you make that sound before.
Booker:I didn’t even know I could. I didn’t know what I liked. All I knew before that night was that I was in love with you.
Macie:Did we even know what love was? Fifteen and sixteen. So young and naïve.
Booker:We always knew what love was when it came to each other, baby. Always. It didn’t matter how young or naïve or inexperienced we were. It was always love.
Macie:I’m so sorry, Booker.
Booker:Don’t pity me, baby. I’m alive. And I’m coming home to you soon.
Macie + McCall
Macie:He'll never speak again.
McCall:Looks that way.
Macie:How long you been keeping his secrets, McCall?
McCall:My whole life, it seems.
Macie:You’re my best friend. You picked me up off the floor, over and over. You held me when I cried, when I screamed, when I raged. And yet, you never told me about the letters, you never told me why he left.
McCall:It was torture. But I made a promise to him.
Macie:He shouldn’t have asked that of you.
McCall:No. He thought he was doing right by you though. He still does.
Macie:That boy wouldn’t know the right thing if it bit him on the ass.
McCall:Maybe.
