He shared everything with me. He told me the truth about everything even though he was pretty sure that I would call him crazy. Liam had taught me the world of magic and monsters, and he told me he wouldn’t blame me if I ran away. He told me things I knew that he never told anyone before, and I accepted it all with relative ease. He’s been so open and so caring and so honest with me.
Why in the world can’t I tell him that I love him?
I do. Love him. I don’t even hesitate with the answer when I asked myself the question. I love him. I would die for him. I will, and have, risked bodily harm for him the same way he has risked it for me. If he were to leave me, I would be distraught for far longer than I’d ever be willing to admit. I can easily imagine spending the rest of my life with him. And even though it would be ill-advised, I can imagine starting a family with him. Being his wife, raising is children, yeah, I can see that. I can dream about that. And it’s a good dream.
But three little worlds just won’t leave my mouth. Even though I look at him and think them and desperately want to say them, nothing at all comes out.
So, I’ll ask you again. What’s wrong with me? What did you do to me?