Entangled (A Twisted Tale #1)

by R. Phillips

Depressing, isn’t it? The idea that we spend the rest of our lives trying to close the wound of our first love with the stitches we take from those that come after. And while that may be true, if you agree with the scientists, that is. I’d argue that your second love is just as important, because it’s the love that reminds you that the world didn’t end with the first. That what was broken can be made new and that our capacity for love is endless. In some ways, the second can shine even brighter than the first, because it brings that part of you back to life. One shapes you and breaks you and one remakes you.

Here’s the thing about life though; it has a funny way of shoving the judgments you make of others right back in your face, of forcing growth upon you. The universe really is brilliant that way, pushing us to our limits just to see what cracks open from our depths.

“I always have loved the satisfaction of a hard win.”

know. It gave me hope. This promise from the universe, a certainty that no matter how dark things got, the sun would always rise. That one constant in a world full of ever-changing variables.”

“It’s really all you need. To know that no matter what happens, there’s always the promise of a new day, a fresh start, a whole world on the precipice of possibility.” Bringing his champagne up, he clears his throat and takes a sip. “I wanted to share it with you.”

“That’s just a part of being alive. Pain is going to find you in life whether you seek it or not. Better to experience the high and be a little bit broken from the story than spend your whole life fucking starving.”

“These stars of ours were written in darkness and bound with light. Ensuring my soul would seek yours for eternity. Forever lost to this captivating insanity of we.”

I hate him. Dead or not. I hate him for showing me what paradise could be and then damning me to hell.

“What if sometimes people just leave and there’s no explanation good enough for those of us left behind?”