Twisted Hate (Twisted, #3)

by Ana Huang

Nothing good ever came from right-swiping on a guy holding a fish on a dating app.

But that was the thing about guilt. It didn’t give a damn about facts or reason. It sprouted from the tiniest seeds of doubt, slipped through the cracks of your psyche, and by the time you realized what the ugly darkness oozing through your veins was, it’d already burrowed itself so deep you couldn’t dig it out without losing a part of yourself.

“Children of asshole fathers unite,”

so real

lashes so long it should be illegal for men to have them.

“Patience.” “I don’t know what that is, but it sounds boring.”

I once read somewhere that the opposite of love wasn’t hate, it was indifference. The flames of hate and passion burned in equal measure.

But at the end of the day, Michael Chen only looked out for himself.

“But being a parent is about more than providing basic necessities. It’s about trust and love. I heard your confession to Ava, Dad. What I didn’t hear was a fucking apology—” “Don’t curse. It’s unbecoming.” “Or a good explanation for why you did what you did,

But it was suddenly, blindingly clear that while he could mimic love, he couldn’t actually feel it.

“Because you’re it for me. Whether it’s today, tomorrow, a year, or decades from now, that’ll never change.” Josh’s lips brushed against my skin before he pulled back, his face taut with emotion. “I’m human, Red. I’ve made mistakes in the past, and I’ll make many more in the future. But one mistake I’ll never make is letting you go, not when there’s even a sliver of a chance left for us. Because the possibility of you is better than the reality of anyone else.”

“Hell with you sounds like heaven to me.”