Defy Me (Shatter Me, #5)

by Tahereh Mafi

My guess is she finally gathered the strength to remember who she’d always been. And if you don’t get that, I’m glad things didn’t work out between the two of you.”

And it’s not insane to imagine that sometimes even horrible people are searching for a way out of their own darkness.”

that I might’ve opened my eyes one day and realized that I was part and parcel of a system that was not only ravaging the world but also slaughtering everyone in it?”

She’s perfect. Perfect everything. Long legs and curves. Her face is insane. Faces shouldn’t look like that. Bright, honey-colored eyes and skin like dusk. Her hair is so brown it’s nearly black. Thick, heavy, straight. She reminds me of something, of a feeling I don’t even know how to describe. And there’s something about her that’s made me stupid. Drunk, like I could just stare at her and be happy, float forever in this feeling.

A girlfriend is exactly what I want. I want a relationship. I want something real.

I don’t know how to have casual relationships anyway. I always end up caring too much, to be honest,

her eyes are big and beautiful, blue green. Like the globe, I think. Like the whole world.

You don’t know that Aaron has been in love with Ella for the better part of his entire life. They’ve known each other since childhood.”

The reason he had to keep wiping their memories was because it didn’t matter how many times he reset the story or remade the introductions— Aaron always fell in love with her. Every time.

Juliette cared about me. Listened to me the way no one else did. It was the most innocent relationship I’d ever had, but it meant more to me than anything. For the first time in years, I felt less alone.

Aaron Warner Anderson is the only emotional through line in my life that ever made sense. He’s the only constant. The only steady, reliable heartbeat I’ve ever had.

I wanted to be better for her. For her happiness. For her future. But if she’s gone, what good is goodness?

No one has ever cared about my feelings long enough to apologize for hurting them. In my experience, I’m usually the monster. I’m the one expected to make amends.

She looks beautiful. My love. My beautiful love.

And I realize then, in a moment that terrifies me, that I want this, forever. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I want to build a future with her. I want to grow old with her. I want to marry her.

And I forget what I was going to say. He has that kind of face. The kind of face that makes you forget where you are, who you are, what you might’ve been about to do or say.

Today is not forever. Happiness does not happen. Happiness must be uncovered, separated from the skin of pain. It must be claimed. Kept close. Protected.

I never dreamed she’d still love me once she knew everything about me. I never dreamed that the heartbreak and horrors of recent events would only bring us closer, or that my love for her could somehow increase tenfold in two weeks. I grew up thinking that the joys of this world were for other people to enjoy. I was certain that I was fated to a bleak, solitary life, forever barred from the contentment offered by human connection.

And it doesn’t feel dangerous to dream that one day, Ella might be mine in every way. My wife. My family. My future.

Is this joy? I think it might kill me.

“I love you, Ella,” I whisper. “I will love you for the rest of my life. My heart is yours. Please don’t ever give it back to me.”

There’s tragedy and beauty in his eyes: something stoic that refuses to be moved, and something childlike that can’t help but feel joy. He looks, in short, like he’s in pain.

This is, after all, what we’re fighting for, isn’t it? A second chance at joy.