The last few hours of his visit had overshadowed everything that had happened before and it felt like we were living someone else’s story. I had no idea what to expect and it left me feeling uneasy.
It felt good to have gotten my worries out there, to have him reassure me. But it hadn’t put anything to rest. Nothing had been solved. He was still working his way through it. And since I’d asked him to be honest with me I had no choice but to go along and continue to be patient.
Love was hard. It was no wonder he didn’t want any part of it. I was starting to think that maybe he had the right idea.
THE ROAD TO hell is paved with good intentions.
You can want to change. You can want to fix things and make it right. You can want to go back and put everything back in order and find that perfect peace you had before you turned it all to shit.
That had been my plan. That had been the promise that I made to Quinn. The promise I’d made to myself. I wanted to fix it. I did. The fact that I had no fucking clue how to do it filled me with an anger I wasn’t used to.
