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“What did you do?” one of the women asks. Sylvie sits up proudly. “I threw scalding hot coffee on his back. Gave him second-degree burns.” The corner of my mouth lifts in a smile.
I’ve never met anyone like Killian in my life. He is tasteless and stubborn and so bold it’s exasperating. But he knows exactly what he wants, and he takes it without apology. He truly cares about himself and no one else. And if I didn’t hate him so much, I might actually like him.
We are on the precipice of something big. I can feel it, and it terrifies me. Because it means I have to come out of the quiet, safe little bubble I’ve been living in.
He’s not afraid of breaking me. He knows I can take it.
Guilt pierces my chest again. It’s like a blade stuck between my ribs that I can’t seem to remove.
Our own torment blinds us from seeing the torment of others. But now that I truly see my wife, I think I love her even more.
How do you fix what’s broken without breaking it further?
