More on this book
Community
Kindle Notes & Highlights
But the little girl was wrong. They weren’t gross; they were simply a part of him. Some people had freckles and moles; he had scars.
Because no one has ever protected you since you moved to New York. Not without wanting something in return.
Because she was his when she should be mine.
I craved her presence even when it drove me mad; I fixated on her absence even when it consumed my thoughts.
Whether she was near or far, I suffered.
“Kada te konačno budem poljubio, nećeš više nositi njegov prsten na ruci.”
I didn’t blame them for not coming forward. The world wasn’t kind to those who dared speak up. But that didn’t mean it was right.
The flames exploded into a wildfire. Smoke and heat raced through my blood, consuming me from the inside out. His skin was the only cool reprieve in a world ablaze, and my hands roamed over him, desperately seeking something to appease this aching, insatiable want inside me.
“Does this hurt?”
I teško onom koji pokuša da mi te uzme
“You sound so pretty when you’re begging me to make you come.”
Wave after wave buffeted me. I was a thousand pieces of confetti fluttering in the wind until the tide finally eased, and I slowly drifted back to earth.
“Joy doesn’t require the absence of grief,” my mother said. “We have the capacity to hold both at the same time. That’s part of the human experience.”
When she wanted something, she went after it. When she failed, she picked herself up and tried again.
“I told you I wasn’t a good person, srce. You should’ve believed me.”
“But I forgot to mention another thing. Don’t touch my fucking cat.”
“Nisam sklon kompromisima, srce, ali za tebe bih pristao i na hiljadu njih
“I’m not usually a compromise person, srce, but for you, I’d agree to a thousand compromises if you asked.”
Srce moje. My heart.
Like my mother said, joy didn’t require the absence of grief, and happiness wasn’t always found in the big moments. More often than not, they existed in small pockets of time like these—in a room with an adorable cat, the man I loved, and the knowledge that he loved me back.
“People are who they are,” she’d said. “They shouldn’t be punished for it.”
I want to see you in everything. Anything. A wicked smile. Nothing.
“I enjoy spending time with you,” I said. “I enjoy seeing you happy. That’s what I enjoy.”
We fit in a way that was uniquely us—light and dark, sea and snow, flame and ice.