she asks, “Why don’t you care? It would kill me if I saw you touch or kiss someone else, or even talk to someone else the way you do me.” I’m the one who pulls back this time, and I swear I feel her heart skip a beat while she waits for my answer. “If it were anyone else…” I shake my head and filter my words, because I don’t want to tell her I would kill anyone else who touched her, but that’s how I feel. “I couldn’t, but they are my family and all I have besides you, and I know you make them as happy and as whole as you make me.”
