Chapter 13

But I don’t want to see us through her eyes. I love him and she doesn’t, simple as that. The next step back I take, I bump right into him. I feel strong, familiar hands on my hips that tell me all I need to know about his love for me. No words are needed—his touch says it all. It speaks of love and possession, taking the bad with the good, having something no one else could ever give me. This touch, those hands, tell me he loves me, and no pop psychology she throws at me will ever change that.

Her gaze flicks behind me and she frowns. “You’re an ass,” she hisses. “Can’t you see this isn’t healthy? Can’t you see what you’re doingto him.”

As if he doesn’t know what she means, he asks in a hard voice, “What are you two talking about?”

Ignoring him, she turns back to me and pleads, “You don’t have to take this bullshit.”

“I know,” I whisper.

Her face relaxes but I feel my lover tense behind me. His arm tightens around my waist.