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“You’re seeing what you want to see then. Because the only person I’ve been looking at or thinking about all night is you.”
“You remember who I am right? Your best friend’s ex-wife?” “I had you first.”
holy fuck if this girl didn’t have me by the balls before, she does now.
I want you to imagine sitting at this table, one holiday after the next. Coming to every fucking stupid dinner and birthday and BBQ because you want to see this person so badly, and it’s the only way you can. Because you fucked up one night years ago, and this is the only way you even get a window into their life now. An opportunity to see them, talk to them. At least know they’re happy even if you can’t be the reason for it. And while you sit there and eat at this table—your fucking turkey or hamburger or whatever festive fucking food the occasion requires, you have to watch them smiling at
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She’s had me for a long time, but in shattered pieces—memories and desires that I’ve kept bottled up. This new reality where I get to taste and feel her, where she reciprocates the same desperation in the way she touches and kisses me… It’s already quickly becoming an addiction for me.
“Good. Fucking. Girl.”
she’s mine now and I’d been hers for a long fucking time.
“Can’t possibly love you? Saint, I’ve been in love with you. Fuck, I think I might have loved you since you talked about comets and pilgrimages. Since you tasted like grapefruit and fucking tequila and kissed me like your life depended on it. Or maybe when I thought about breaking you out of your wedding so I could have you for myself. When I started wearing this medallion like a fucking collar. Even though it tortured me to see you with him every time… I’ve definitely loved you since you told me I was yours.”
“I need you. You’re my path, Saint. My pilgrimage. The one who keeps me grounded. The one that takes me back to you and puts me on my knees every night hoping that I finally get to have you for good.”
