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being unwanted is a hard thing to un-feel, to forget.
She is the last thing he needs. He has to remember that.
I’m self-aware enough to admit I’m a pushover. Self-deprecating enough to know it’s a weak, pitiful quality.
Thumbs my pulse point with a gentle stroke before releasing.
That a mouth brushes my temple.
That that same mouth murmurs, “I got you, honey,” and that’s what breaks me.
the first thing I see is sparkling hazel eyes followed by a roguish smile, when my heart does this weird flipping thing in my chest.
Rain will never feel the same again.
“Ain’t got nothing better in my life, Caroline.”
“I always want to see you.”
always want to see you. All the fuckin’ time. The best part of my day is seein’ you and
He thinks Oscar Jackson might be the dumbest man alive. He might be a close second.
Every time he looks at her, something in his chest throbs.
“And I saw you, and I stopped being mad. I could breathe again. Because you are like coming up for air, Caroline. Those pretty flowers you fill your life with?
You’re that for me. You’re bright and you’re happy and you’re good.”
The fact that he notices her, that his brain chants pretty girl pretty girl pretty girl, hits him like a slap to the face, because he can’t remember the last time he noticed, admired, someone who wasn’t his wife.
