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“Who says I’m loyal to you, Aiden Griffith?” The slowest, most calculated smile forms on his face, making an eerie feeling creep into my chest and wrap around the beating organ that drums in my ribcage. “Baby, I don’t think you’ve ever stopped.”
“I want to be the person you can rely on if you need someone, even if you can do it on your own. I want to cheer you on like you always did for me. To support you with whatever makes you happy. And I want that to be me.”
My arms hug my knees tightly to my chest, my feet propped on the edge of the seat in a protective stance. “I’m not a whore,” I whisper, failing at patching the internal wall up as a tear slides down my cheek. He turns the truck on, not looking at me once as he puts it into drive. “No, baby. You’re a survivor.”
ahhhhhh
