On Being Cared For.
It has been so long since anybody cared about me—not my money, not how good I would look naked, but me—that I forgot what it feels like to have someone wrap his arms around me in a true and honest attempt to protect me from my own pain.
It’s such a beautiful feeling, so pure and true—enough to make me cry all over again. It’s the exact opposite of what I felt with Heartbreak—or rather, what Heartbreak’s gaze reminded me of. Instead of remembering Dom, I now remember my father. His memory brings me different tears—beautiful tears.
“Riles,” he whispers into my ear, gently stroking my hair. I close my eyes, and for that brief moment, I see my father’s face as he whispers that name to me. I can even feel him stroking my hair; it’s such a Jesse thing to do. I can almost s
