“Tell me you’re not trying to leave.” “I’m not trying to leave,” she whispers. “But you needed a little push to get you ahead in the game.” I dart forward, wrapping my arm around her shoulder, my free hand coming up to the marking on her temple. “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean... I can’t fucking believe...” “I know.” She grips my wrist, pulling it to her mouth to kiss the edge of my tattoo there.
