There is no greater evil than the ones you trust the most.
From the moment I woke up, my life was never my own. And now I’m trapped in his gilded cage, trying to piece together the life I lost eight years ago—and failing, because some mornings I wake up and cannot remember what I was so desperate to get back.
I hate him. He has taken everything from me, even my freedom. And yet.
My heart wants to believe that there is good in everyone. In him. God help me, even in him.
Maxim
Eight years I spent hating her for what she took from me. I had a plan. I had a reason. But the minute I saw her, I felt the plan crack somewhere down its center, and I have been pressing my hands against it ever since, trying to hold the two halves together.
She was like a siren, and I knew it, and I had to have her, knowing the risk. I told myself it was strategy. I told myself I was still in control.
No matter how much she begs, I will never let her go. I can’t. I don’t know anymore if that’s because of what she did, or because of what I feel. I’m not sure there’s a difference now. I’m not sure there ever was. She is mine and no one will ever take her from me.
