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I wonder who I’m becoming. This woman who finds humor in her own demise. This person who can hold such vastly opposing ideas in mind and still function. Idea one: Liam is a criminal. Idea two: Liam is a good man. I don’t know how, or why, or when I became someone who could excuse the worst in in a man for something I sense, but don’t know, might be a greater good. All I know is that I believe in Liam—in all his darkness and beautiful light—and it feels like something sacred to me, even though it might just be insanity. “Look, I just called to let you know I’m fine and to check in.” He huffs. “You could’ve called earlier to find out if I was fine. You saw the way he had that guy throw me out of the restaurant. I could’ve been lying in an alley somewhere with a bullet in my head!” “I k
- Writer
