Ricochet (Addicted, #2)

by Krista Ritchie

Our I love yous encompass years of heartache, of hurt, of laughter and pain.

“You’re supposed to love me by telling me that I’m beautiful and I’m smart and no man is good enough for me. You’re not supposed to tell me that I’m worth less than I am.”

I think we’re all old enough to feel the scars of our upbringing. Now we just have to find a way to heal.

“I love you,” he says again, “and no other man will ever say those words and mean them the way I do.”

I just hope in the future our struggle will become easier. Hope. Such a silly thing. Sometimes it doesn’t come true.

I nod now, changing course a little. I want to get there. To allow myself to feel pained by my childhood without feeling irreparable guilt at the same time. I just don’t know how to compartmentalize these emotions. How do I bear the hurt of being lonely without hating myself at the same time? Because my sisters would have given anything for the freedom I had. Because the world would give anything for the life I was born into. I feel selfish and stupid. Worthless and pathetic. Ugly and used.

Giving up something isn’t the same thing as losing control.

Pain, happiness, joy and hurt ricochet from each path taken and from each memory uncovered. One decision can change my life forever.