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She could have been anything. And now she was nothing.
“I enjoy reading as well.” Damn it all—the confession made my stomach flutter.
WHEN HE LOVES READING 🫡😩🤌
“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.”
There was something hopeful about the moments before one was fully awake, before reality caught you by the collar and dragged you into its dark abyss. Anything was possible at dawn’s first light. By nightfall, you realized all the day had brought was failure. The small specks of hope that remained were like stars scattered across the vast night sky, reminding you that tomorrow could be different. Tomorrow could be the day you succeeded.
Oh god. I had slept with my sister’s murderer.
well well well… if it isn’t the consequences of your own actions
“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.
“You’ve always said that I was too much for you,” I said. Too naïve. Too reckless. Too young. Too kind. I stepped forward so I could see the panic in his wild eyes. “I’m not too much, Robert. You were never enough.”
