“I told you once that I don’t think anyone has loved me before. But . . .” I nibble at my lip. “But I don’t think I’ve ever really loved anyone either.” His thumbs swipe at my cheeks, brushing away the tears that slip over my skin. “That’s okay, baby. I can be your first,” he says. And then he kisses me. The first, last, and only man to love me. And I’m okay with that.
