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“Because I love her!” I slammed my hands on the table. “There, happy? I love her so much I would rather give her up than hurt her. But if you think I’m letting her go to another country alone, with no protection, you’ve got another think coming. Now give me her fucking flight info.”
Narcissist. Why would she need his protection? Not romantic at all
I felt like the world’s worst movie cliché. Running through the airport trying to get the woman I loved to give me another chance…how original.
Self aware (eyeroll)
Her passion for her art radiated from every inch of her, and I could tell she cared about us. She wanted us to succeed and be the best we could be. In a cutthroat industry rife with backstabbing and undermining other creators, her dedication to helping us perfect our craft with no ego said a lot about her character.
Why is any of this important?
“You can try, but I can’t guarantee my friends in the British government will comply.” His face darkened. “And if you think I’m leaving you alone and unprotected anywhere, you don’t know me at all.”
Ew toxic
Alex’s chest heaved like he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. “I can’t do that, sweetheart. I’ll wait however long it takes, but I’ll never be okay with a world in which you’re alone.”
Not romantic - no means no
I made it halfway up the stairs before I caved. The glass pane above the door provided a clear view of the sidewalk, and although I was already in the building, Alex remained outside, soaked to the bone. His shirt clung to his sculpted torso, and his hair was plastered to his forehead, the light brown color almost black from the rain.
So dumb. Acting like it JUST happened. It's been 6 months without him!
didn’t matter to me. It was the little things that tore holes in my heart—the red velvet cupcakes that spelled out I’m Sorry; a rare, vintage Japanese camera I’d searched for for years but had never found for sale; the framed photo of Alex and me at the fall festival. I hadn’t realized he’d kept a copy from the photo booth.
Why is this dragging on
blah blah blah.
This is how i feel reading this book
“I realize this is quite a surprise, as a live performance wasn’t in the program tonight,” Alex said. “And if you know me, you know I’m not famous for my patronage of the arts—or my singing skills.” Soft laughter rippled through the crowd, along with a few knowing looks. Alex waited for the chuckles to die down before he continued, his gaze burning into mine. “Whether it’s music, photography, film, or painting, the arts reflect the world around us, and for too long, I only saw the dark side. The seedy underbellies, the ugly truths. Photographs reminded me of moments in time that never lasted.
...more
Eyeroll
Alex didn’t just sing, he sang. With emotion, with beauty, with so much rawness it took my
Of course
low growl filled the room.
Eyeroll
“I thought you left.” I didn’t know why, but I started crying.
Jesus christ
“I belong to you.”
I feel sad
And you know what? Alex and I, we fit perfectly.
Thank god it's over
