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For all of us who waited years for our one.
I’d never had a chance to ask where I went wrong.
“You aren’t moody, Mel. You’re discerning. You’re playful in a different way, and that’s beside the point. You’re allowed to be angry. You’re allowed not to shit rainbows and butterflies at all times, and you’re sure as hell allowed to put someone who hurt you in their place—me included—without being called moody.”
“I want my own place. A job that doesn’t give me the Sunday scaries every single night of the week. I want to be in love. To start a family with a good person who doesn’t get off on messing with my head. I just need to figure out how to get it all without completely losing myself in the process again.”
Tiny gestures to anyone else. To me, though, knowing what she’s been through? She may as well be moving mountains.
For the first time in weeks, it feels like she’s taken a step forward. Toward the finish line I’ve been standing at since I was fourteen, waiting—hoping—for the day she’ll join me.
“I’ve never been single. I’ve been yours.”
it was with a piece of me that I don’t even want back, anyway. It belongs to her, just like the rest of me. I haven’t been single since the day I met her.
“What else would you want there? Other than softer towels and sheets.” “I don’t know… Curtains in your bedroom, maybe? Fluffier pillows. Artwork.” I nip her lip. “Hold that thought.” Melody gives an adorable grumble when I pull away, out of reach of her mouth. I round the car and hop into the driver’s seat, soaked but not at all uncomfortable as I pull the car out onto the street. “Where are we going?” “We’re getting curtains. And towels, and artwork. Fluffier pillows. Whatever means you’ll like it there.”
He’s making room for me, opening his life to me, and it feels amazing.
“So, at the risk of sounding like a misogynistic alpha-male prick, let me be very clear that there is no fucking scenario that could ever come about where I’d let you move into a rat-infested apartment. Ever.”
We just needed time to become the right versions of ourselves. For life to shape us into puzzle pieces that fit perfectly together.
“Here’s the thing about me, Clo: I learn from my mistakes. I was an idiot once and I don’t plan on letting you go again. You and me? This is it. Lock the cuffs and throw away the key.”
