“I’m sorry.” “What?” I question. “I’m sorry. I wanted to keep you on edge, I wanted you to feel my possession, my ownership. I wanted you understand the sense of proprietary I feel for you. I wanted to make you understand how crazy it makes me feel to think about someone else wanting you and you not hating that idea. I know this is all fucking quick and intense, but I also know you’re in this as deep as I am, I can see it, even if you can’t admit it or tell me yet. But I never… Never, want to make you feel like I’m doing something to deliberately hurt you.”
