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Funny, how we become just like our parents, even when we try our hardest not to.
“I’m giving you a task. Next time, I want you to show me how you like to be touched.”
what if i died
“Ben lives across the river.” “He does?” I ask. I don’t have a clue who that is. “Which river?” Sam’s quiet for a long moment. “The watery one.”
i love children
Your brother’s great, except he’s got the strongest self-control of anyone I’ve ever met, and I’m a professional ballerina.
I want to ruin her for all future men. I want to be the one she thinks about when she touches herself, while she fucks her boring future husband, and when she tells her girlfriends about the hottest fling of her life.
“No warnings, no goodbyes. I barely handled it the first time. I won’t survive it again. Never again.”
I don’t know if I can handle the pain of losing her. But I can’t let her go, either.
“Okay, you really are rich.”
“Daddy,” Willa says. “Why are you kissing Isabel?”
LMFAOOOOO
“Okay. Maybe. Just please make it a sister, because I already have a little brother.”
😭😭😭😭
“Isabel is Daddy’s girlfriend, and she’s nice. We play superheroes.”
LMFAOOOOOO
“No. I want you to take your prejudices, your emotional immaturity, and whatever else sparked your reaction to my relationship with Isabel and shove it up your fucking ass,”
