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I loved him as a person first and foremost. No matter how imperfect he believed himself to be, there was no denying just how perfect he was to me.
“You’re mine. This was inevitable. And I never want his fucking hands on you again.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, again, lips quivering. I fluttered my hands over his face, down to the spot at his throat I’d miss, the place I loved to fall asleep. “I know,” he said, smiling sadly, kissing my lips softly. This was goodbye. We were over before we had even begun. “I can’t compete with your pain, angel. Your wounds are too deep for my love to reach. Too deep for my love to heal. You have to find a way past it. But something’s gotta give because I can’t do this, and I know, right now, that something won’t be you.”
“I know we’re not supposed to dwell on the past—” “Then don’t,” Cole said. “We can talk about it. We can reminisce. But we don’t dwell there. We don’t live there. Here is where we live.” He held his arms out to encompass the beauty around us. “The here and now.”
“Will we always feel this lucky? Always love each other this hard? Always want each other this much?” Standing now, I traced the happiness on his face, emotions surging to a high intensity as the rain now hammered at the glass doors, begging us to hurry. “How is it possible to love something this much?” I asked, trying to comprehend why my heart wanted and needed his so damn much. I felt suffocated by my love for him.
