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Touching her wouldn’t be enough. I wanted to possess her. Wanted to twist her into something that could fit against my broken parts. I didn’t just want her body. I wanted her heart. Her fucking soul. “I want it all.”
When I told her I wanted everything, I didn’t realize how deeply the meaning ran. I wanted her whole heart. I wanted her to love me like she would never love another person on this vile planet. When I was finished with her, I’d hand her the key to her freedom and I wanted her to drop it at my feet. I wanted her to stay.
“I know you said it couldn’t work out between you and your mystery guy, but stories like yours deserve a better ending.”
Emily didn’t make me weak. She wouldn’t be my end. She made me strong. She would be my new beginning. My salvation. The light in my darkness. The thread of purity woven into my ugliness. My reason for existing.
