Imaginary Strangers (Dangerous Strangers, #1)

by Minka Kent

Good people are always so sure they’re right.

I lie for him. For the two of us. Lying to my husband isn’t something I’m proud of, but it’s become the infallible glue that holds our marriage together so we can be our best selves for our beautiful little family. I lie to give them each the best version of myself—a version I’ve curated only for them. But more than any of that, I lie to keep them safe from a past of which they know nothing. My husband knows me well, but he doesn’t know everything.

Affection has never been an instinct of mine, but like all things, a person can make a habit of anything if they want it badly enough and put forth a little effort.

Sympathy (and its cousin, empathy) are strangers I’ll never know—but that doesn’t mean I can’t pretend we’re great friends.

In this time, I’ve discovered that while I’m incapable of feeling love and compassion the way most people do, what I am capable of feeling . . . is dangerously protective. There’s nothing I won’t do to keep my family—and my secrets—safe.

At the end of the day, every relationship is transactional, and anyone who believes otherwise is fooling themselves.

If someone chooses to exit your life, you shouldn’t stalk them—you should thank them. They did you a favor. Why more people don’t realize this is beyond me. I’ve never understood the idea of longing to be with someone who has no desire to be with you. Longing is merely a type of thought, and thoughts alone are incapable of changing circumstances, facts, or other people’s feelings about you.

They say the devil you know is better than the devil you don’t. I used to agree. Now I’m not so sure.