In Love With My Bully
The warmth it brought did little to ease the ache in my chest as I catch her up on what transpired today.
"I’m tired, Mrs. Kinsley,” I admitted, setting my glass down with a sigh. “I’m tired of fighting for someone who doesn’t see me.”
Mrs. Kinsley leaned in closer, her expression growing more serious, though her eyes still sparkled with that wicked sense of humor. “Nicola, listen to me. I’ve known a lot of women in my time, and let me tell you something: real love isn’t always the fairy tale you read about in those books of yours. It’s not all hearts and flowers, where he sees you, falls in love, and can’t breathe without you after that. Real love is messy, it’s complicated, and sometimes,