The Enemy

by Sarah Adams

If I never let anyone get close, they can’t hurt me.

But then, a healthier part of me surfaces from his callous words and actions and reminds me that he wasn’t good enough for me. That I deserve a man who loves me for me—in every form.

Finally, the torture stops, and I open my eyes. He’s smiling. A warm, heart-wrenching, let’s-do-this-forever kind of smile, and I feel a piece of the ice around my heart break off. I wish I wasn’t this girl. The one protecting her heart like it’s made of spun glass.

This woman is a killer, and as I grab her jeans by the belt loops and tug her closer to me, I realize I’m dead. I love her. I think I always have.