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I’d do bad things with a clear head to have him. And then I’d do them all over again if it meant I got to have him in the next life, too.
Angel. It had been too many years since he’d called me that, and I could no longer fight the urge to bend, to give him everything, all of me right then, to be his good fucking angel.
“I still love you, Cole. And I can’t make it stop,” I said, words shattering like glass, the shards stabbing at my heart.
But still he holds you, and I imagine you pretending it’s me, and while that soothes my ego, it does nothing for my fracturing heart, because whether you’re pretending to want him or not, whether it’s my face you’re seeing instead of his, he does in fact have you. And the sad part is, he doesn’t even appreciate it.”