“Can I tell you what I want? I want to stop wanting things I can’t have. I want to stop falling for jerks I don’t need. And I want to stop feeling like an f/ing gooey butter cake somebody left out in the rain.”

“I can’t stop thinking about doing this to you,” he whispers, so quietly I can barely hear him. “Tell me to stop now if you don’t want this. If you don’t want me.”

“I just want to be me—I just want to be useful and … content. I want to stop wondering if I’ll ever feel whole and just be whole. I want to have a purpose one that I can look at without feeling like I’m less than I was.”

“What the hell do you want from me?” “What are you trying to do to me?”“Stop! Just stop!” he spits.“Why? What else needs to be said? I think you’ve told me enough lies for a lifetime.”“No more lies,” he says angrily. “I don’t even want to talk to you anymore. I just want to hear you tell me that you don’t feel anything for me. That you want me to leave you alone and never come back. Then I’ll go. If that’s what you really want, I’ll go.”“Don’t. Please don’t say it.”“Why?”“Because I don’t want you to. I need you to come back to me. Not to help me. Or to help my father. I’m done with that. I don’t want your help. It all boils down to you. I just want you.”“I just want you.”“Okay.”

“I can speak of you now to anyone because I’ve stopped wanting anything like what I once wanted from you.”

“But this… Stop fighting, Kiera. Just say you want this. Tell me you want me…like I want you. I already know you do…”