“I'll never give up. You have my heart, my soul, my everything. When you're ready, I'll be here." -Logan”
“I wanted you that night, Cassandra. More than I've ever wanted any woman. But I'm thankful every day that you wouldn't let me have my way. We wouldn't be here today if I had slept with you then.”
“I continued with heavy sobs."Please Cassandra.Wake up,sweetheart.I'll do anything.I need you.You're all I've ever needed.All I've ever wanted."
I pulled away and stroked my finger across her chin.She was everything, and for the first time in my life, I knew I would never want anyone elese.
I caved and placed a small kis on her forehead.My lips needed to feel her just once more. I didn't deserve it but I wasn't ready to be a gentleman now. Pulling back, I looked down at her, my heart swelling in my chest.
"I love you," I murmured,my head resting next to her ear.”
“I'll never give up. You have my heart, my soul, my everything. When you're ready, I'll be here.”
“And by the way, I enjoyed your pool very much. It's a shame you'll never get me that wet.”
“Love be damned; I never wanted to feel that vulnerable and broken again.”
“he first time I ever laid eyes on you, you were jogging with your friend, Hilary,” he murmured. I lowered my gaze back to the tiny shoe and smiled.
“The first time I ever had the pleasure of hearing your voice,” he titled his head in thought, “you ended up tripping and needed bandaged.”
His finger brushed over the tiny silver Band-Aid. Tears began pooling in my eyes. His gift was unlike anything I ever expected. I wasn’t sure what to think or even feel in that moment.
“The first time I knew you were more than a pretty face,” he smiled, his thumb caressing my cheek for the briefest moment, “you brought Oliver and me muffins.” His voice cracked and I bit my bottom lip as he touched upon the tiny muffin.
The burn of a stray tear as it slipped down my cheek pulled my gaze to my lap. Quickly, I wiped it away.
Next, he held up the miniature swimming pool in his hand and I laughed, looking up at him.
“This one speaks for itself, sweetheart.” His smile widened into a broad grin. “It was a night I’ll never forget…and one I wouldn’t mind experiencing again next summer.”
My head shot down, heat creeping up my cheeks. I shook my head, chuckling.
“This,” he held up a music note, “is for the first time we danced.” He lowered the bracelet and looked me in the eyes. “I wanted you that night, Cassandra. More than I’ve ever wanted any woman. But I’m thankful every day that you wouldn’t let me have my way.” He sighed. “We wouldn’t be here today if I had slept with you then.”
He looked back down, frowning. “I can’t image you not being here today.”
My heart swelled helping me find my voice.
“The pumpkin patch,” I said, running my fingers over the shiny jack-o-lantern.
“Yes, the first day I realized I wanted nothing more than to protect you. From your ex, from anyone that could hurt you.”
I smiled, his words soothing every part of my soul.
“The carnival.” I smiled, remembering our day together. The charm was of a Ferris wheel and the only one that was gold.
Logan took my hand and clasped the bracelet around my wrist. He looked up at me, my hand still in his.
“The first day I knew Oliver was falling in love with you.”
“The girl you’re looking for no longer exists. She died thirteen years ago. The woman who’s left, she’s just a bartender.”
“Call me old fashioned, but I kind of enjoy the so-called 'walk of shame.' It's really more a 'walk of pride because I got some.”
“...our souls may be consumed by shadows, but that doesn't mean we have to behave as monsters.”
“Then I pushed my way through and saw a young woman climb down, no more than my age, only she was as pale as a flour bag, with rosebud lips pressed tight together, and two spots of rouge high on her cheeks. She stared at the rabble, her eyes narrowing. She weren't afeard of us, no not one whit. She lifted her chin and said in a throaty London drawl, 'Mr Pars. Fetch him at once.' Like magic the scene changed: three or four fellows legged it indoors and those staying behind hung back a bit, fidgeting before this girl that might have dropped from the moon for all we'd ever seen such a being in our yard. What drew my eye was her apricot-colored gown that shone like a diamond. I drank in all her marks of fashion: the peachy ribbon holding the little dog she clutched to her bosom, her powdered curls, but most of all it was her shoes I fixed on. They were made of shiny silver stuff, and in spite of the prettiest heels you ever saw, were already squelched in Mawton mud. It were a crime to ruin those shoes, but there were no denying it, she'd landed in a right old pigsty.”
“I believe that a scientist looking at nonscientific problems is just as dumb as the next guy. –Richard Feynman”
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