Unloved

by Katy Regnery

I long for someone. In my loneliest moments, I long for someone so fiercely, it aches. I want someone to hold me, to whisper in my ear, to braid their fingers through mine and breathe against my skin.

He’d pull off I-95 every few weeks and sit in her section, staying for hours and tipping her way too much. Over time, he started bringing little gifts, like pieces of jewelry—items that we discovered, years later, were trophies from his victims.

Anyone with half a brain loves romance novels, and the rest are lying.