“I have a boyfriend,” I whispered as he pulled out, and I flinched because of how fucking empty I felt. “I’m a cheater. A whore—” “Don’t you dare fucking call yourself that,” he snapped, grabbing my chin and forcing my eyes to his. ‘What if I told you, you were always supposed to be with me? What if I told you that we were always meant to be together? What if I told you he was in the wrong for taking you from me!” “Then I would try not to call you a liar,” I muttered, dark self loathing hitting me when he winced like I’d slapped him.
