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“How often does a girl find out that the man she’s living with is her stalker?” “How often does a man find a woman he’d destroy the world for?”
But like all things, they come to an end.
Touching her isn’t just pleasurable to me. It’s fucking therapeutic.
“Your capacity for forgiveness confuses me, but I need it,” I say. “I’ll never apologize for protecting you because your life is all that matters to me. However, I’m sorry for hurting you.”
“I had no idea you wanted to be a father.” “I didn’t until I met you.”
“All I see is you. All I want is you. When I’m not with you, I can’t think. You’ve fucking wrecked me, but I don’t care. Not if it means I get to have you.”