“I wasn’t kind, Jude. Not to many people. Not to you. I wasn’t sure if I
wanted you or if I wanted you gone from my sight so that I would stop feeling
as I did, which made me even more unkind. But when you were gone—truly
gone beneath the waves—I hated myself as I never have before.”
"I hate you. I hate you. I hate you.”
He kisses me harder.
“I hate you,” I breathe into his mouth. “I hate you so much that sometimes
I can’t think of anything else.”
"For a moment" he says, "I wondered if it wasn't you shooting bolts at me."
I make a face at him. "And what made you decide it wasn't?"
He grins up at me. "They missed."
…and all I want to do is walk into his arms. I want to drown my worries in his embrace. I want him to say something totally unlike himself, about things being okay.