“I never asked you to take care of me! This? This is exactly what I didn’t want. You promised me . . .” I shook my head, my eyes burning as I turned my attention back to packing. I jerked… — Amelia C. Gormley Copy Share Image
“These aren’t me!” I screamed in a whisper, two tears slipping down my cheeks. “Whatever you see, it’s not me. I’m just a fuck-up who doesn’t know anything, not even what he’s doing from moment to moment. And I’m scared all the time, and I don’t know how to be anything else, except maybe angry and sad.” His arms tightened… — Amelia C. Gormley Copy Share
“A half-empty bottle of vodka sat on the bedside table, and his sketchbook was open on the king-size bed. Several sketches, only three of which looked finished, were scattered across the bedspread. Clearly he hadn’t been sleeping either. Swallowing, I picked up the nearest one. A dark-skinned, pale-haired child with an angel’s wings—too old to be a cherub, more like… — Amelia C. Gormley Copy Share
“You ain’t no plastic doll, boy,” he growled, inches away from Rhys’s lips. “You just need to be handled right.” — Amelia C. Gormley Copy Share Image
“Ew. Can you not talk about my dad ogling people? Scarlett Johansson may be gorgeous, but still.” “It’ll be a challenge, but I think… — Amelia C. Gormley Copy Share Image
“Of course, to my utter mortification, he looked amused. I half-expected him to start golf clapping. “Ooh, epic bitch fit! I give it five… — Amelia C. Gormley Copy Share Image
“The deafening report of the next rocket to go up masked my squeak when his hand slipped into my lap. “Oh, God.” I gasped, trying to pretend nothing was happening. Nope, absolutely nothing weird about cuddling with a near-stranger in the presence of my secret ex-lover. The pace of the detonations picked up, cloaking my gasps as the flat of… — Amelia C. Gormley Copy Share
“Don’t you see, angel?” His arms tightened around me. “You’re still on your feet. You may hate yourself for every little mistake you make,… — Amelia C. Gormley Copy Share Image
“Yeah, well there’s your first problem. You don’t get it. You can’t even see what you did. You’re going to sit here today and you’re going to convince yourself that you were right and I was unreasonable and you won’t even think about what you just tried to make me into. But hey…It’s not my problem, now. You think what… — Amelia C. Gormley Copy Share
“Good thing about hanging out with a pregnant woman: designated driver by default.” — Amelia C. Gormley Copy Share Image
“Well, look at it this way,” Robin reasoned as I sat with him and Geoff at their kitchen table that night, half-plastered from the pitcher of margarita they’d blended up. Was I going to have a tequila hangover in the morning? Oh, honey, you bet your sweet ass I was. And how many fucks did I give? Not a one.… — Amelia C. Gormley Copy Share
“I ended up taking Ben & Jerry and the Gallo brothers home that night, so it was a real orgy, if a very maudlin… — Amelia C. Gormley Copy Share Image
“I had this coming. I just have to take my medicine. I think I’ll spend the weekend brooding about what a shitty friend I… — Amelia C. Gormley Copy Share Image
