Dammit, Lucifer, turning the question back on him.

“It’s. It’s not perfect,” he said. “Or easy. And it’s not a — a constant thing. It’s more. . . . It’s. . . . Fuck.”

He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose.

“It’s — feeling like you want to die if they go away. But letting them anyway, because it’s what they need to do. It’s giving someone what they need, even when it’s not what you want.”

Of course Duke would equate love with sacrifice.