The Heart Principle (The Kiss Quotient, #3)

by Helen Hoang

You’re a big deal—to me. You’re amazing—to me.

For the rest of the night, I don’t speak. I keep my anger and frustration and hurt inside where it belongs. No one notices. That’s how it’s supposed to be.

If our places were reversed, I don’t think I’d feel the same way. I like taking care of people. I like being needed. But Anna’s pain is real.

I can’t brush it aside just because I don’t understand it. I can’t place judgment on it. Pain is pain.

I know what it’s like to hurt and for others no...

She’s proud of me, proud that I’m hers, and it makes my heart feel like it’s growing too big for my chest.

I don’t know how to explain how wonderful it feels to be cared for,

I’m injured and bleeding. But no one can see. Because it’s inside where I hurt.

“Anna, I’m in love with you.”

With Quan, I want the words to matter, like his words matter to me. I’ve tucked his I love you into my heart, where I can carry it forever, safe and treasured.

He laughs as he kisses me, and I feel his smile on my smile. I wrap my arms around him, wondering how I don’t light up the room when I glow like this.

He matters more to me than the voices in my head.

Perhaps this is what I’ve always needed without really knowing it, to love myself without shame and without reservation.

I might not be whole, I might not be perfect, but I can be what Anna needs. Holding her as she falls apart, I let go. I fall with her.

This is difficult for me because of a failing unique to myself, and yes, I believe it’s a failing. I want to be the kind of person who finds meaning in caring for those who need it. That kind of person is good. They are heroes who have all my respect. I’m just not that kind of person.

What they see is not who I am. It’s the mask that they love, the mask that’s suffocating me.

I’ve fallen into darkness, and I don’t see a way out. But I’m fighting. I’m trying. I’m trying as hard as I can to do what’s right, to be what people need. I don’t have anything more to give. I wish I did.

When we were together, I didn’t always see things his way. I pretended to. I put him first, even above myself, and after being with someone who truly cares about me, I see how wrong that was. I never fought for myself, and that suited him just fine because he got everything he wanted out of our relationship. From the looks of things, he wants more of that. There was a time when I thought this was what I wanted. But I don’t. I don’t want this at all.

Not because I want to, but because I feel like I have to—in order to make everyone happy. Everyone but me.

Perhaps I’ve been mourning all this time without realizing it. Can you hurt without knowing it?

I’m not surprised that I’m going straight to her. My compass always points to her.

Please, please, I want to scream, please understand me. Stop judging me. Accept me.

I’m a marionette, hyperaware of all the strings I need to pull in order to give a convincing performance.

I can’t help noting how attractive he is. But I could say the same of a Monet painting, and I don’t have a burning desire to possess one.

A bad sensation settles over me. It feels like all the small lies that I’ve told to please people are catching up with me, and a moment of reckoning is coming. I’ll have to deal with everything eventually and make tough choices. But I can’t today. Not here and now, not while everyone is watching.

I feel like shit, and there’s only one thing right now that can make this better. Her. I need her in my arms. I need to breathe her in.

I hate how trapped I am in my life. There’s no winning for me. I’ll never be able to please everyone.

He’s just a man. I shouldn’t feel so empty with him gone. But I know I’ve lost something important, something essential. Because I haven’t just lost him. I’ve also lost the person that I am when I’m with him—the person behind the mask. I’ve lost me.

There is no way I can fix this. This violin will never sing again.

My violin is dead. I killed it with my own hands. I took a beautiful innocent thing, and I murdered it. Because I couldn’t bring myself to say no. I’ve destroyed everything good in my life. Because I can’t say no. Because I’m still trying to be something I’m not.

And I would have. With a smile on my face, no less. Because I can’t say no.

I’m no good anymore. I can’t be loved anymore.

I’ve been fighting to be the man they think I am without even realizing it. That fight is over now. I don’t have anything to offer anymore. No fame, no fortune, no future.

Most of all, me. I need to show myself I can do this. I need to win. All I’ve got at this point is me. I have to be enough.

But I’m blinded by the need to win, to set the record, to earn the cold, comforting knowledge that I’m not only enough, but better, the best. I’m essential, damn it. I’m worth standing up for. My body isn’t what it was, but look what it’s going to do.

Even as much as I hurt, I don’t regret loving her the way I did—the way I do.

It’s not winning the race that’s important. It’s this moment right here, when I’m lying in the mud staring up at the dark sky with rain falling in my eyes. It’s facing the pain, facing failure, facing myself, and finding a way to make it to the end.

My life is in ruins now. But that’s because it was built on lies in the first place—my lies.

I can’t bring myself to apologize to my family for speaking up for myself when they finally asked for more than I could give.

I forcefully remind myself that we’re over. No self-respecting guy would get back with her after what she did.

yeah... he's going back

I promise you that I’ll never do something like that again where you’re concerned—if I have the chance. I’ll draw a line around you, and I’ll protect you and stand up for you and speak up for you when it’s right. I’ll keep you safe. And I’ll do the same for me. Because I matter, too.”

I’ve been swallowed up in sadness and pain and hopelessness and every different kind of self-hatred that exists. But you’ve been my bright spot. You’ve pulled me through. The only good thing this broken heart of mine can feel is love for you.”

She’s finally being open with me, just like I’ve been demanding from the start. It’s hard for her but she’s trying anyway, and that means everything to me. I forgive her. I’ll risk anything for her.

This broken body of mine isn’t what it was, but it’s what I have. It took me into hell and back. I can’t be ashamed any longer.

His trust humbles me and honors me. It makes me love him more.

It’s difficult to believe something so small had such a large impact.

Because I matter, too. If I don’t stand up for me, no one else will. I have to do this.

I need her to love me enough to acknowledge when she’s hurt me and try not to do it again. I need her to attempt to understand me. I need her to accept my differences. Hiding and masking, trying to please other people, trying to please her, has been destroying me, and I can’t live that way anymore.

But I guess that’s how it must be when someone’s standards are so impossibly high and their capacity for empathy so limited. They are cruel to others, and cruelest to themself.

As I’m leaving, she pulls me aside and surprises me by hugging me. She doesn’t admonish me. She doesn’t ask anything of me. She doesn’t say anything at all. She just lets me know she cares. That is all I’ve ever wanted.