“Sheets, towels and blankets surrounded Travis. He had fashioned a soft pallet to sleep on while I expelled the fifteen shots of tequila I’d consumed the night before. Travis had held my hair out of the toilet, and sat with me all night.”

“I didn't sleep with him, Parker. He held my hair while I hurled a pint of Petron in his toilet. That's as romantic as it got.”

“I curled into a ball underneath my thick comforter, and inhaled through my nose; Travis’ scent still lingered on my skin.The bed felt cold and foreign, a sharp contrast to the warmth of Travis’ mattress. I had spent thirty days in a cramped apartment with Eastern’s most infamous tramp, and after all the bickering and late-night houseguests, it was the only place I wanted to be.”

“I have sat here at my desk, day after day, night after night, a blank sheet of paper before me, unable to lift my pen, trembling and weeping too.”

“I saw the same peace in Travis’ eyes that I had witnessed only a handful of times, and it hit me that just like the other nights, his content expression was a direct result of reassurance from me.”

“I awoke to a loud banging noise and sat straight up. I reached for the light, not to turn it on, but for a weapon. All I could think was that Travis had killed Caeden, and now he’d come for me.”