Page 88 of Ricochet
“You need me,” he whispers, his breath filling my lungs.
Yes.
But the word stays buried beneath fear. I stare at him, drowning in his amber eyes.
He stares at me, swimming into my heady gaze.
It’s what we don’t say that hurts the most. Neither of us will speak to unwind the things that cause this friction to build and torment. So we watch and wait and listen to each other’s heavy breath.
Some choices define us. And in this moment, I make a decision that will change the course of our lives forever.
Or maybe, I just prolong the inevitable.
Either way, in my heart, I know this feels right.
