my relationships never lasted more than a few dates and always ended abruptly. I was drawn to tortured, bad-boy types. The darkly handsome ones who’d never call but would magically reappear just when you’re moving on.
I wouldnt call that a relationship ... Thats just going on dates
pit forms in my stomach, like an expanding pancake, and to my surprise, hot tears prick my eyes. I’m obviously out. I must be. Done and finished already as a member of the Hunting Wives.
sometimes catch myself staring at Graham, at his open happiness and fulfillment with family life, and find myself envious of how uncomplicated, how simple his needs seem to be. I’m tired of being the complicated one.
His blue eyes lock onto mine. His gaze is kind and under other circumstances—say, if I were single and we had met in a bar and he wasn’t interrogating me on my whereabouts—I think I’d feel the slightest stirring of attraction take hold.
Girl... Youre attracted to anyone who gives you time of day
“He would’ve told me if he did, I know he would’ve. I mean, I’m his mom, and he keeps things from me, but he would’ve told me this. Bastards. He’s heartbroken over Abby and now he has to deal with this. It’s all so unfair.”
Pressure builds behind my eyes and I pinch the bridge of my nose. He’s right, of course, but I can’t keep the snippiness out of my voice. “You try talking to the police. It’s nerve-racking as hell!” I storm down the hall toward Jack’s room.
“But—that’s bullshit, Mike! Yes, I drove out there, yes, I confronted Margot about framing me, but I was nowhere close to being threatening! You know me, you know I’m not even capable of that—”