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The image of Atlas with my ring on her finger and a baby in her belly popped into my head with crystal-fucking-clarity.
“I’d miss you,” he told me. “And if you left, I’d follow you. There’s nowhere else I’d rather be than on your bumper, Dream.”
“I want to give you shelter and be your peace. I want to take care of you, Dream. I want to be yours. I won’t ask if you like me too because I don’t waste time with stupid questions.
“What if we were fated, Owen, but not meant to be?”
Love doesn’t always appear in black and white. It gets messy, it gets gray, and sometimes it will even make you abandon your morals completely.
