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Under the fading lights of the city, I spot a black-and-red embroidered friendship bracelet peeking out beneath his long sleeve shirt. He still has it.
“Do you remember what I told you, Bella? Do you remember what I promised you?” Of course I do. I could never forget his promise.
“Mickey,” she gasps. She lunges for me before another word can make it out, and it’s my turn to stumble back. Her arms wrap around my neck, and she crushes me to her so there isn’t an inch of space between us. I don’t waste a second before curling my body around hers, grabbing and holding her like if I blink, I’ll be back to counting without an end in sight.
She’s not allowed to disappear again. I won’t let it happen. The feeling of her pressed against me, holding me as if I actually mean something to her... it's nothing like all the times before.
Mickey and Roman are one and the same, but Mickey is just for her. It’s the name that has my heart ratcheting because it means I’m her home. She feels safe with me and never wants to lose me, just like her Mickey Mouse. I could die happy knowing she calls me that.
“You will never be alone again. I swear on my life. Wherever you go, I’ll be right there. We’ll always find each other. I’m not going anywhere. It’s a promise. We’re forever, Princess, and nothing will ever come between us. Do you understand?” She sniffles. “Yes.” “Say it.” “We’re forever.” “Swear it.” “I promise I’ll never leave you again.” I grin. “Why?” She narrows her eyes, but wipes her tears away as she raises her chin. But all I can see is the string bracelets fastened to her wrist. Not one. Two. “Because you’re a crazy asshole, but I love you for it.”
Her delicate fingers fiddle with one of the string bracelets around her wrist—the red-and-black one that’s an exact replica of the one I broke—and she unfastens it. Time seems to slow as she grabs my hand and fastens it around my wrist. She was wearing me. She was wearing me. She was wearing me. She was wearing me.
Our kids will probably be just as obsessed with the rodent.
Maybe Cassie is more his style because they both have the same kind of responsibilities. The wings on those pesky butterflies sag every time I think of her. He hasn’t given me a reason to believe he’s into her, but who could ever fall in love with a girl who’s missing a part of her heart? Not to mention that Cassie is prettier.
this poor girl
“Happy birthday, beautiful,” he whispers. Beautiful. Not cute or pretty. He thinks I’m beautiful.
“Another year of you and me.”
“One more year and every inch of you will be mine.”
at least he's waiting till she's legal 🤷♀️
“You’re so beautiful, Bella.”
Those boys were right—at least partly. My only living parent doesn’t want me. Jeremy will grow up and forget all about me. Mickey will probably fall in love with someone who actually deserves him. A person who can give to him as much as he gives to them, look him in the eye when he speaks, and have a proper conversation without choking up. He’s going to be with someone who knows how to love herself and the life she has. She won’t have a leaking heart. She won’t constantly need his protection.
MY POOR BABY OMG
“The next time something happens, you call me. Even if it’s just to ask which shirt you should wear or if you're out of snacks. I don’t give a shit if I’m working, sleeping, or half-dead; you grab that phone, and you call me. I’ll pick up whatever you need, even if I’m six feet under, Bella. There isn’t a god in existence that could stop me from getting to you. So you pick up that phone and call me before you even think about calling the cops. Got it?”
“When will you realize there is nothing I wouldn’t do for you?”
“You’d get on your knees for me if I asked. Does that make me your god, Princess?”
God, I’m so pathetic. So this is how it is? I’m going to need a babysitter for the rest of my life? I can’t go anywhere without Mickey, just in case I accidentally kill myself, because I can’t seem to do something as basic as breathing. How could he want that? Why should he want that? He’s trying to help me, and I won’t even help myself.
“No, hey. No, I’m sorry. Breathe. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you; it’s just—I—" He closes his eyes and
takes a deep breath. When he opens them, they’re softer than I’ve ever seen, yet lined with guilt, grief, and fear. “I can’t lose you. You know those cliché sayings that you’re the first thing I think about when I wake up and my last thought when I fall asleep? It’s true. You’re always on my mind. Constantly. There isn’t a minute that goes by when I’m not wondering what you’re doing, or if you’re okay, or thinking about me as much as I think about you. If you were to—" Mickey squeezes his eyes shut again like the words physically ...
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“Listen to me, Bella, and listen to me well. Here’s what you’re going to do: You won’t apologize. You’re not going to cry or say shit like that about yourself. Do you know why? Because you are intelligent and brave and beautiful and kind and fucking perfect, and I don’t deserve you one bit. And I want you to see that in yourself every day, too.”
“I don’t give a shit if you hear it every day.
They made you cry—they hurt you. They’re lucky they’re not dead yet.”
“I do whatever you ask every day of the year. I don’t need an excuse for it.”
“I am going to make them wish they were dead, Bella. I’m going to do it for you.”
“As my lady wishes.”
“You’re so fucking beautiful, Bella.”
He’s looking at me as if I’m the only person in this world who matters. Like I’m his everything. Like he’s about to kiss me.
“God, that was better than I ever imagined. You taste so damn good.” He shakes his head. “I don’t think I’m going to survive another year,” he says, more to himself than to me.
That was amazing, but I don’t understand why he pulled away. Did I kiss him wrong? Was that bad? I’ve never kissed anyone before, and I can’t help feeling like I wasn’t enough, even though he is smiling at me like I’ve given him some gift.
this poor damn girl 😭😭
Something wrong with me? Someone else? Something else? Is he waiting for me to be better or more mature?
What if he’s actually waiting for me to be different—better? What if one year is a countdown before he decides whether he really wants me? What happens in the time between? How am I meant to change?
He wants to get rid of me like he always does at night. He deposits me back into my room before nine and doesn’t return until morning to take me to school. What’s he doing after this? Will he call Cassie and get her to help with the bulge pressed against me?
"He wants to get rid of me.." DONT DO THIS TO ME
I feel full and hollow at the same time. It’s an awful thing to feel.
There’s a skip in his step as he goes back to his bike.
She’s more than a dream. She doesn’t compare to my wildest imagination. I’ve always known I have the addict gene in me, and I’ve found my vice. I’ve been addicted to Bella since the very beginning. Whether just by looking at her or hearing her voice, it fired off little signals in my brain that had my whole body craving my next hit of anything her.
Whatever I thought I felt before is fucking peanuts in comparison. Now that I know what she tastes like, how she sounds when she moans, and the way her flesh molded so perfectly to me, I’m hooked. This girl was made for me, my own princess. I would give up everything for a single hit—my perfect drug. What she does to me hits like nothing else. And, fuck, if that doesn’t drive me insane just thinking about it.
Me? I fought against my urges and let her walk out of there in one piece. I tore myself away from her when I only wanted to consume her whole. If I could live in her skin, I would. I don’t think she gets that.
I’m her loyal servant, always have been, and always will be. She’s my purpose, my home.
She’s my delicate princess.
I can’t breathe. It hurts too much. I can’t—oh, God. I’m going to die. No. No. Bella. Who’s going to watch over Bella? Who’s going to take care of my princess? I can’t die. I need to take her to school. I have to make sure she’s okay. I have to be there for her. What if she forgets to bring her inhaler again? What if she doesn’t have enough money for lunch, or has a nightmare? No. I can’t leave Bella. We finally kissed, and in one year, it’ll be just us. We’ll be going around the country to camp by the beach and see New Orleans, just like she always dreamed of. I’m meant to take her back to
...more
We haven’t gotten our high energy dog that’s been trained to protect Bella. Or flown to Italy so she can have authentic pizza, and to Greece to relive our ancient history obsession. I’m meant to be putting three kids in her, and we’re supposed to have an unconventional wedding, where she’d wear a white dress and start crying as she walks down the aisle.
My religion starts with “Isa” and ends with
“Bella,” and I’d worship at her altar every night. Blessed be the meal I’m about to eat and all that.
It wouldn’t be the first time I killed for her, either. Mitchell took her away from me for a year, and she got bullied. He should have known better than to do that.
Fortunately, the cops aren’t smart enough to catch a murderer who crosses state lines to kill his childhood best friend’s foster dad.
I left my handiwork on your chest.”
her name?? tattooed??
She’s even more stunning than the last time I saw her. I didn’t think that was possible.
“Good afternoon, Barfoot’s Hardware Store; how can I help?” Silence. “Hello?” I know this game. No one is going to respond. “Are you there?” Nothing. I shake my head and hang up. I’ve gotten a call like this almost every day for months.
ok roman or just see her in person
“They made us do woodwork, so I made you a birdhouse. I painted it white so you can draw something on it.
