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I say, jumping up from the window, knocking my copy of Wuthering Heights onto the carpet.
“No,” I say. “Not really. I like listening to you, though.”
It was me that touched him.
“I’ll never lie to you,”
“You were never gonna tell me, were you?” I ask her. “No,” Simone snorts.
“Are you jealous?” I whisper. “Extremely.”
“Because I don’t care if the richest, fanciest fuckers in the world are in this room. You belong to me.”
There’s only one thing of value in here: Simone. She belongs to me. Only to me.
“I love you, Simone,” he says, his dark eyes boring into mine. “I know it’s only been a month—” “I love you, too,” I tell him quickly. “I don’t care how long it’s been. This thing between us—” “It’s not normal,” Dante says. “I love you like . . . like I’d destroy anything that tried to come between us. Like I’d burn the whole world down if I had to.”
“I want you. Nothing else,” he says. “You have me. All of me.” “Promise me, Simone.” “I’m yours. Till the day I die.”
“What I feel about Dante . . . a crush is candlelight. And Dante’s like the sun, right inside my chest. It burns so bright and so brilliant that I can barely stand it. It could burn and burn for a million years and not go out.”
“Who would you most like to eat lunch with?” “Chris Evans, of course.”
I don’t think you ever stop missing the people you’ve lost. Maybe someday it hurts less. But that hasn’t happened yet.
I’m doing none of it. I’m riveted by the sight of Simone.
If I hadn’t been so sick . . . If I hadn’t been so scared . . . If I hadn’t been so depressed . . .
“It was Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse,” I tell her. “That’s Henry’s favorite movie.”
“Do you know what that nine years did to me?” he says. “Do you know what I did to try to forget you? I abandoned my family. I joined the military. I flew halfway across the world and fought in a hellscape. I killed a hundred and sixty-two men, just to numb the pain of missing you. And none of it worked, not for a second. I never stopped hurting. I never stopped wondering how you could leave me, when I couldn’t let go of you even for a second.”
Soulmates don’t fuck like normal people. We unleash our darkest and wildest desires, without shame or judgment. We can fuck with violence or tenderness, aggression or care, and it’s never misunderstood. It only brings us closer.
This is what I didn’t know about having kids: it’s like falling in love all over again. You love everything about that little person. They are more crucial to you than your own self.
“Is someone gonna hurt Mom?” Henry whispers. “No!” I tell him. “No one’s going to hurt her. I’m going to get her and bring her back. I promise you, Henry.” It’s the first promise I’ve ever made to him. I’ll keep it, or I’ll die trying.
time. “I love you, Simone. I have always loved you, and I will always love you. I’m never going to stop. Wherever you go, whatever you do, you have my heart in your hands.”
