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I know I can’t love him, because I’ve witnessed real love already.
“Where are you from?”
“Kansas,”
“Ah, so that explains the accent.”
“I don’t have an accent.”
“Yeah, you do. It sounds like you’ve got honey in your mouth w...
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“And it sounds like you have bullshit in yours. Where’s ...
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“Yep. Honeysuckle.”
“Excuse me?”
“You remind me of honeysuckle. Nectar sweet as honey, like the sound of your voice. But the berries are deceiving—poisonous if consumed.” He s...
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“Because now that I know you’re walking out here alone, I need to know you get home safely.
I’m going to be a good person because I want to be, not because anyone else told me I should be.”
“I think you just need to learn the difference between the rules that matter, and the rules that only truly exist so they can be broken.”
Sometimes, the house can feel suffocating to me. They try to make me feel like I’m part of the family, make it feel like home. Most of the time, it does, but there are moments when I remember I’m not a Ramos. It’s not home. Truly, I don’t have a family. I’m alone. There is something in Darby’s eyes that makes me think she feels the same way sometimes.
I squeeze her hand four times. I’ll. Keep. You. Safe. We jump together, free-falling into the abyss.
You want to go home? I’ll take you home, Darby. I’ve got a car. I’ll find a plane. A submarine. I don’t fucking care. Just say the word.”
So, tonight, you’re mine, Honeysuckle.
“You don’t need my permission. If you feel like dancing, go dance.” He leans a little closer, whispering in my ear, “Just remember, Honeysuckle: if another guy touches you, I’ll remove his arms.”
“Just the audacity. The general audacity to fucking exist and believe they deserve to breathe the same air as me.”
he squeezes my fingers. Four times.
I squeeze his palm now. Four times.
“I think I might wait my whole life for you to come back, Darby. Something tells me there would be no point in trying to move on from this, because I’d end up searching for you in every place I go, in every person I meet, aimlessly wandering until I find you again.”
“When you go back to Kansas, you need to promise me that if you’re ever feeling unsafe, if you’re ever feeling like you’re about to break, about to lose yourself completely, you call me. Text me. Email me. Send letter by messenger pigeon. I don’t fucking care. “Do not go back to the girl you were before you arrived here. Do not be obedient. Timid. Submissive. You’re not just the honey, Darby. You’re the whole damn flower. Do not forget you have poison berries. You have strength, resilience, and an independent mind. You do not need to conform to anyone else’s way of living. Okay?”
“Day or night. If you need me, I’m there, no questions asked. I’m always going to protect you. Until the end of time.”
No other person, no other love—no other soul—will ever be enough for either of us.
“You did hear me say your name. The name I’ve been moaning every time I fuck my fist for the last ten years.”
and that’s when I feel it: the moment I know for certain that my heart no longer lives inside my body—it now lives inside the palm of her hand.
My heart, my soul, the entirety of my being—they all belong to Darby.
“I’ve never been enough to make someone stay before. I think that might be why I’ve fought so hard to be successful, to make money, to have a name. I’ve been
fighting to be enough for someone.” His voice cracks. “To be enough for you.”
“You’ve always been enoug...
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“The possibility of having you has always been worth the risk of losing you. I didn’t think twice before booking that flight to Kansas when I got your letter. Not just because you needed me or because the thought of you being married to someone else makes me sick, but because I knew seeing you again would lead to possibility, and that was worth the fear of losing you again.”
“But I can’t wake up one morning and just find you gone. I can’t watch you disappear into thin air, into nothing. I can’t spend another decade wondering if I’d made everything up in my head. I can’t let myself believe that I have you, only to end up in a reality where I don’t.”
“I’m not giving you any ultimatums. I’ll hold onto you as long as you let me. But if you’re going to leave again, I just…” He licks his lip, ocean eyes bright with tears. “Give me the opportunity to walk away.”
“I think what I meant to ask was: what the fuck do you want?”
“She is not a piece of property to be ‘returned’ to you, asshole. She’s a human fucking being. Your child. Your child whom you haven’t contacted one single time since she left that church.”
“Your first mistake is assuming I give one iota of a fuck about my career.”
“The only thing I care about is your daughter. Ruin my name and my reputation, I don’t give a shit. I’ll retire tomorrow if it means protecting her from you.”
“Your daughter is not ruined. She is kind, smart, resilient, and strong. She’s fucking incredible,”
“The only person who’s ever tried ruining her is you, and you’ve failed every goddamn time. Every time you’ve pushed her down, she’s gotten back up. She’s figured out how to escape y...
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“I’ll spend the rest of my fucking life making sure you don’t ever hurt her again. “So, know this: I am not afraid of you. Throw whatever you want at me—at us—but she’s not a piece of property, and she does not belong to you. She’s a human being, and she’s ...
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“My whore,” he whispers.
Leo shoots to his feet and leans over the counter, placing his mouth in the phone. “Look, man, I’m trying to have my post-workout snack right now, and you’re interrupting. Can you get to whatever the fuck your point is so I can get back to my meal?”
“Oh, and if you ever dare to refer to my fiancée as a whore again, I’ll fucking end you. Understood?”
