For someone who’d spent most of his adult life fearful of getting girls pregnant, I thought my unexpected paternal trial was turning out reasonably well.
Don’t be sorry you loved him.
There’s something tiring about an endless, unknown stretch of highway.
She laughed softly. “Therapy isn’t so much about what I think as you do.” “Then why do it at all?” “Because we don’t always know what it is we’re thinking or feeling. When you have a guide, it’s easier to figure things out. You’ll often discover that you already know what to do. I can help you ask questions and go places you might not have on your own.
I can pull you closer, if you want,” he said. “Just to see how much she cares.
It was the way we were trained. See monsters, not people.
Everyone’s got skeletons in their closet.
Didn’t you have one when you were little? What was his name, Hopper?” “Yeah,” I said, resisting the urge to punch him on the arm. Hopper? Really? “Best rabbit ever.
Just because I like you, it doesn’t mean I still don’t think you’re an evil creature of the night. You are.
I don’t belong to anyone. I make my own choices.
A piece of heaven?” I managed to ask. He slowly shook his head. “No. The other place. The one I’m going to burn in for thinking what I’m thinking.
It doesn’t matter what it is. Start with something, and go from there. Go until you’re unstoppable.
We ordered a pizza for dinner, and while we were eating, I suddenly realized that today is Rose’s birthday. Sweet sixteen. I still feel horrible for forgetting. “I don’t have a present for you,” I told her. She responded: “You’re alive. That’s all I need.
I found some unicorn sheets that were on clearance, but when I picked them up, she said, without even looking at me: “Don’t even think about it, Liss. Just because I’m on watch for guardians doesn’t mean I’m oblivious to poor retail decisions.
We cooked our first meal today. I didn’t know it was possible to burn spaghetti.
Rose made pancakes this morning without burning them like the last five times she tried. She strutted around all day. You would’ve thought she’d staked her first Strigoi.
Why was the universe so cruel?
The eyes that could astutely spot any danger in the area would regard me wonderingly and worshipfully, like I was the most beautiful and amazing woman in the world.
No point stressing over what hasn’t happened. Just work on what you can control now.
If I had learned anything about life and love, it was that they were tenuous things that could end at any moment. Caution was essential – but not at the cost of wasting your life. I decided I wasn’t going to waste it now.
There was one bed.