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His head lowered and our lips met, feverish and needy. There was urgency in our kiss, but also exquisite tenderness. Killian kissed me like he feared I would disappear. My arms tightened around him, while he clung to me. A tear slid down my scarred cheek. I found both my redemption and salvation on his lips.
“We’re Julianna and Killian, and we deserve our happy ending,” I said to my wife. This wasn’t a pretty fairy tale. Our love story was messy and flawed – a twisted tale. But it was perfect in the most imperfect way.
