I wanted him to smile whenever he looked at me and I wanted his eyes to laugh when I’m an idiot and I wanted to feel the strength of the love he had for her directed at me.
Do I want him to love me?
It hurt. That question hurt so harshly in my mind. Mostly because I already knew the answer.
Yes.
I wanted Ivan to fall in love with me. I wanted him to fall so far that there’ll be no chance of him ever getting back up.
More than that, I needed him to. I craved the idea of him loving me. I wanted to know that his skin buzzed at my touch. That my kiss ignited a fire inside him. That my voice is a soother to him. That being without me for even twenty-four hours is a completely inconceivable idea.
Because I’m there. I’m teetering on the edge of the fall.
“Brenda?” Ivan said softly.
I looked at him. “Hm?”