He pulls away, and she licks her lips, her eyes slowly opening. “I’m not leaving,” she states. “I didn’t expect you would.” He lets go of her, grabs her hand, and says, “Dance with me,” before pulling her away from the bar. I sit on my stool and watch them take their place on the mini dance floor. There’s no grinding. Nothing to show that he once used her for his own sick game. He makes love to her out there. Slow and sweet. He holds her to him and kisses her while they dance to their own song. It’s beautiful. I realize I want that. The fighting. The passion. The love. I want someone to love
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