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The thing about rock bottom though is that it looks deceptively solid until life decides to break out its jackhammer.
So what if I’d memorized her laugh like a favorite song, or noticed how her hair caught the sunlight just so, or the precise shade of pink her cheeks turned when she was embarrassed?
You don’t spend years trying to forget someone who was just a crush. You don’t feel physical pain at the mention of their name. Unless they’ve become part of your DNA, coded into every cell like a genetic memory you can’t erase.
For the record, I NEVER stopped thinking about you. In fact, I had to stop myself from calling you every single day for the last 687 days. You deserved better than my silence. After a thorough self-examination, I’ve diagnosed myself with Acute Chronic Jerkitis. Recommended treatment plan: Extensive groveling, followed by a lifetime of making it up to you.
“Come.” He waved his hand for me to follow. “No pun intended.”
“Is he always like this?” I wondered aloud, finally picking up the first pill. “No,” she answered thoughtfully. “I’ve never seen this side of him.” “Really? I figured he always acts like a massive control freak.” “Loving,” she clarified with a smile. “I’ve never seen him act loving like this before.”
Now, years later, those scars were hidden beneath beautiful ink. He’d chosen to write over that chapter of his story, but I’d never forget being the one who’d read it in its original text, written in scars and trust.
Women shouldn’t have to be warned—constantly—about the dangers of men.
“Blake?” Her voice was quiet, embarrassed. “Would you … would you hold me?” My throat tightened. “Cupcake,” I murmured, “I’d hold you every moment of every day if it meant you felt safe.”
All that darkness that had poisoned me, that had turned me bitter and withdrawn, had a cure all along. She was the antidote.
In saving Tessa, I might have damned myself. But I’d do it again. A thousand times over. Some prices were worth paying.
sometimes, the bravest thing is to let love in, even knowing it might hurt.
