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It’s enough to make me wonder whether I’m different because of my parents’ treatment or if my parents couldn’t love me because I’m different.
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but that’s not how this works. You chose me. I chose you. We haven’t fucked, but that’s only because I want you to get to know me first. We can skip ahead, though, if it means you start to understand that you’re mine.”
“You have no idea how committed I am. If you did, you’d be the one running.”
“Who are you, Isaac?” I ask quietly. His answer threatens to bring me to my knees. “I’m the man who’s going to keep you safe.”
“Who did I say this body belongs to?” “You,” I breathe. “And that’s the problem. How will anyone else unlock a door when I’m the only one with the key?”
“I learned years ago that when it comes to protecting what’s mine, there are no limits to what I will or won’t do. That’s who I am.”
When I’m around Sante, I feel seen. I feel wanted and important—things I’ve rarely felt in my life.
“Now that we got that out of the way, it’s time for girls’ lunch. I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” “It’s only Wednesday,” I tease, relieved that she’s lightened the mood. “When you have a toddler, that’s a long-ass time.”
If you ask me, women are incredible strategists and are totally underutilized in our society. We make jokes about how their brains are always on, thinking of a million things at once, then we limit their access to leadership roles. It’s the fucking dumbest thing in the world. Totally counterintuitive. Those active brains help them see five steps ahead.
He’s not at all what I thought I wanted, yet he’s everything I need.
His rejection confirms my greatest fear—I am too damaged to ever be loved.
I want him to know I’m not scared anymore. He can’t control me anymore.
