49
When Noemi had asked me why I’d agreed to marry her, I couldn’t tell her the truth. That she was f*****g mine, and that was why. Not just in the eyes of the law or the church. I knew she was mine, deep in my bones. How f*****g nuts was that after only two damn weeks? We hadn’t even spoken to one another for one of them—partially because I’d been insanely busy, but also to keep my head on straight. I had to stay away from her to keep the growing addiction from taking over. Fuck. What the hell was happening to me? I didn’t even recognize myself anymore. The only thing that soothed my irritation was seeing Noemi wrestle with her own conflicted feelings. She may not have liked it, but I was winning her over one small victory at a time. Whatever the source of the magnetic pull between us,
- Writer
