“Freedom?” A wretched breath of laughter tears through his throat. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. I’d follow you anywhere, put a gun to my head and pull the trigger, leave my family, my friends, my whole fucking world if you asked me to. But even after all these years, you still think the way I love you makes you a prisoner. When are you going to get it?” His jaw tightens, and he reaches up, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear. “You’re not shackled to me, Lavinia. I’m shackled to you.”
