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What do you get the man who has everything? Now I know. Sentiment. He loves it because it’s sentimental. It means something to him, just like he means something to me.
“It is done,” I cry as I break away from his grip. “You did it, the moment you got on that fucking plane. It is over. I’m nobody’s second prize, Elliot.” He stares at me. “Least of all yours,” I sneer. “You think I could honestly be with someone who I know will throw me to the side every time he finds something shiny and new?”
all the pain from the last few months is washed away with love.
