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She lifts her chin and says the two words destined to toss a lighted match into the gasoline-soaked room that is our current situation. “Make me.”
“No. You don’t get to do that. You do not get to whore-or-virgin me. I’m a person and people are complicated. You don’t get to decide what’s best for me.”
I’m going to keep them. I don’t know how yet, but the vision of a future together is solidifying in my head the same way all my other goals have in the past, so detailed it feels like we’re already there. Me, Gaeton, Isabelle. Together. It’s the path to reach that destination that’s still too murky. We have a lot of shit to unpack.
“Hating past flings out of principle is so overrated.” She loops her arm through mine and tugs me toward the door. “It’s a good thing we’re enlightened ladies, huh?”
