Listening to the lady who has been beaten by her husband and is still staying with him reminds me of my mother: The ex-Luna.
Tonight, as he goes deeper into the narration, he notices my expression. He places his hand on my thigh. Indirectly telling me I can be who I want to be in front of him.
Oh, Xander, I wish it was that easy. I wish I could let the mask slip even for a second. I wish I wasn’t as screwed up as I am. I wish I hadn’t done the unforgivable deed just because daddy abused mommy.
Xander exhales then finishes, “I can help you handle it. You don’t have to be all alone. You don’t have to deal with everything on your own. I might not be from your pack, but trust me, I get it.”
If we were not of the same age, I would have seen him as a younger brother. Young brothers nag peop
