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The smallest men compensated in the biggest ways.
What had Wentworth seen when he looked at me? Someone he could take advantage of because the system was created in his favor. Someone like the other girls, who kept their mouths shut and played nice because they were afraid of rocking the boat. I didn’t blame them for not coming forward. The world wasn’t kind to those who dared speak up.
She was a splash of color in my world of gray, and before I knew it, I was ensnared. There was no way out.
“I don’t mind that part. It is what it is,” he said. “But how much is our friendship really worth when you didn’t even tell me you were in love with Ayana all this time?” I instinctively flinched. In love? What I felt for her was fascination. Preoccupation. Obsession so deep I couldn’t breathe sometimes.
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.
Before we met, I’d spent years bemoaning my lack of a love life, but my sighs had just been the universe whispering to me, Wait a while longer. Your perfect match will come. He had. And he was worth every second of the wait.
