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she’d become attached to a being who could offer her nothing in return except anguish through his passing.
“This is rich. She’s reassigned to the most coveted cell block in the prison and pitches a fit because she has serious hots for a scraggly cripple who resembles a garden rake on his good hair day. I could write a book about this. If I could write, that is.”
“You have to try harder. Please, Gemma. Do it for me. Just this one time. That’s all I’m asking. Save my world, open this goddamn door!”
“At the time when I lost control of my mind, when I had no more fight left in me, and my only hope was to die, you walked into my cell and said, Hello, Simon.” He kissed the back of her hand. “I am Simon.”
