Sage
Her fingers tugged at the back of my shirt, just a small pull, barely anything, but it stopped me dead. I stood there, bag heavy on my shoulder, door half-open, waiting for words that didn’t come.
What the hell does she want?
One minute she’s drawing lines, telling me s*x is only for people in love, pushing me away like I’m poison. The next she’s grabbing me like she doesn’t want me to leave. No anger, no hate, nothing I could read. Just… this. And God help me, even hate would be better than indifference. At least hate would mean I’d gotten under her skin the way she’d gotten under mine.
I don’t deserve anything more. Not after the lie I fed her about her family, using her grief to chain her to me. Possessing her with it. What kind of man does that and then hopes, selfishly, for f
