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A storm that was shaped like one man. My ex-husband. The man I craved. The man I missed. The man who’d ruined me and who’d broken me… The man who, despite it all, I still loved.
A woman who deserved respect. A woman who deserved to be loved. A woman who deserved a faithful man.
She pshawed. "You’re the strongest man in the world!" My gaze clashed with her mother’s. How I wished that were true, I told her silently, just as she told me that right back. How I wished you’d been strong enough to be the man I deserved... God, she was beautiful.
That was when things had started to go wrong, when it had begun to resonate that angels didn’t mate with demons for a reason…
Now wasn’t the time for this conversation, but I couldn’t stop myself from asking, "What else don’t I know, Storm? What else have you kept from me?"
He peered up at me, all big eyes and vulnerability, pain and distress and need. Need for me. Why couldn’t he have looked at me like that before? Why had I never been enough for him?
"Unreliable? You’re as fickle as the fucking weather. Worse than lightning. You’re more like a goddamn storm rolling in out of fucking nowhere.
The day you tossed me out on my ass was a day you made me proud of you, baby girl. I was so, so proud. I was hurting and grieving and terrified
"I only ever wanted you," she cried out, and this time, she started sobbing. "Why didn’t you want me enough? Why?" When her fist pounded on my chest, I let her. "Why did you have to break us apart? Why couldn’t you have just come to me? I would always have been there. Always."