Too Late

by Colleen Hoover

It was as if running back into his arms was the equivalent of relinquishing my self-respect.

when you’ve got the power in your hands and the money in your pocket, it’s hard to walk away.

Maybe he really is trying. Maybe he’s tired of this life, too.

I’ll probably have bruises on my arms tomorrow, but at least they won’t remain forever like the scars my parents left on me.

He’s everything I want, and everything I don’t need, and it literally, physically hurts.

That’s the thing about humans. We’ll all do despicable things for money.

I fear losing him more than I fear death.