“You’re my wife. You might not care about me right now but I don’t give a shit. I love us enough for both of us. We can make this work, Ivy. No more secrets. You can’t love only the parts of me you like. That’s not how this works. Hell—love, hate, anger, lust—it’s all just some abstract image in my head where all the pieces meld together in a fucked-up way to create something beautiful. That’s what we have, what we are—a fucked-up mess. But no man will ever love you like I do, Ivy. I’d die for you, kill for you, burn the world to ash if you asked it of me, but I’ll do it with you by my side.”
