Rush (City Lights Series, #3)

by Emma Scott

I grabbed for Marit’s hand and squeezed, my other hand holding my head as I bent over, wracked by sobs I tried my best to keep quiet. I broke open, broke apart, and let all the rage and pain and bitterness go. It was too hard to hold on to, and I couldn’t do it anymore. I thought I was holding on to my old life, but there wasn’t anything left of it. Only ugly residue, and that, I finally realized, wasn’t worth holding on to. Everything I thought I knew about what it meant to be a man was stripped away. What remained was what it meant to be a man who loved a woman as much as I did. To be a human being experiencing this life in all its ugliness, its beauty, its pain and hate; good and evil; love and death. So yeah, I sobbed like a goddamn baby, but I’d never felt more like myself—whatever that was or whatever it was going to be—than at that moment.