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Men could touch what they wanted—take what they wanted—and never taste the bitterness of consequences. If I spoke up, it would be my fault. I was the one who had walked in here wearing a skirt. I was the one who had been born a woman.
The more handsome the man, the bigger the let-down.
Real
“Because it is easier to fear the unknown than to try and understand it. And unfortunately, the loudest voices often belong to the most fearful.”
“But most of all,” he said, placing a final kiss over my pulse, “I like the way you hate me.”
Forgiveness wasn’t a commodity to be bought and paid for. Forgiveness was a matter of the heart. A matter of choosing love over hate. Forgiveness was a release. Forgiveness was freedom.
