Page 29 of Give Me Perfect Love

That better-be-glad-he-is-dead motherfucker.

I try to keep this anger caged, because I realize this isn’t about how I feel.

This is hard as shit for Kat to talk about, and if she’s anything like me, which she is, then she doesn’t want pity.

Fuck pity.

We’ve been through what we’ve been through, but we’ve never asked anyone to feel sorry for us. It’s one of the main reasons we don’t talk about it.

She looks so strong to me. Even crying and being completely worn out, she’s so damn strong. I’m in awe of her. Keeping all of this to yourself for so many years would drive someone into the ground, but not Kat.

Not the woman I love.

And I now know why I’ve never loved anyone else.

We’re made from the same shit, cut from the same star. We’re meant to be. It was always supposed to be this way.

Her wet lashes web onto her rosy cheeks and her lips look fuller from crying. I want to kiss her, but this isn’t the time.

“I love you,” I say to her, my own voice hoarse from the raw emotion I’m feeling. I lift her hand and bring it to my lips, kissing her knuckles and looking into her eyes.

She’ll never know how much it means to me that she’s finally told me about her childhood. It means she trusts me, and even though she hasn’t told me, I’m pretty sure it means she loves me, too.

She rubs her face and exhales softly. I drop her hand and stand up, needing to get a grip on my feelings. I want to punch something,

“Are you hungry?” I ask her.

She shakes her head no.

“Do you want a drink? Or…” I scratch my head, trying to think of anything she may want or need.

“No, Bryce.” She pulls a hair tie off her wrist and wraps her wet locks into a messy bun. “I’m just ready for bed.”

I nod in understanding. “Okay, well, let’s go to bed.” She stands up, walking back into the bathroom, and I remove the top comforter, tossing it onto the chair in the corner. I pull back the sheets and the soft blanket.

Thankfully, the heat works in here, so we won’t freeze in the night with only a blanket. Kat walks back out of the bathroom, pulling my T-shirt down, and I see she’s put on some underwear.

I sit back down on the bed as she walks over to the other side. She climbs in and sighs. “I’m so ready to get out of this fucking town.”

I laugh. “Me, too.”

She looks over at me as I lie back. She blinks, looking curious.

“What, baby?” I ask, knowing there’s a question on the tip of her tongue.

“Earlier, you told Mills you’d eaten at the diner I used to work at. How?”

I look up at the ceiling, remembering that, and then it hits me. She grew up here. Her stepdad sold heroin. I sit up and look back at her.

“What?” she asks, sitting up, too.

There’s no way.

I shake my head.

No fucking way.

“Where did you live?” I ask.

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