I Moan for My Ex’s Uncle
“Every time I look at you, I feel like I’m fighting fate itself.”
“Maybe we are,” she said. “But I’d rather fight fate than lose you.”
That single sentence shattered something in me. I tightened my hold on her, closing my eyes as the storm howled louder. I wanted to freeze the world right here, to keep her warmth, her heartbeat, her scent, forever.
“I don’t deserve you,” I whispered.
Her hand slid over my heart. “Then stop trying to deserve me. Just love me.”
I looked at her, then really looked at her-and realised she was right. We had both been trying to earn something that had already been ours. Love was never meant to be earned; it was meant to be lived, even if it burned us in the end.