The vivid image he paints…if I dig deep enough, I can almost see it, feel it. Feel him. I can hear his tender voice as he sings me “Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star” to help lull me to sleep. I know my life wasn’t smooth sailing, but a profound sadness threatens to drag me under into the murky depths.
I now know why that is.
Hazel had every right to be mad at me. What I did to Ellie, to Cayden, was inexcusable. I was a naïve, lovestruck teenager, and if I could speak to the seventeen-year-old me, I’d tell her to fight for him. He did what he thought was right, but everything is just so f****d up.
“Did you know the guy who insinuated I was some bed-hopping party girl?”
He clucks his tongue, angered. “Yes. That’s Matt. He knows you because of me. We dealt together back in the day. I saw sen
