(The Right Kind of Wrong, Book 3)
SPOILERS FOR THE RIGHT KIND OF WRONG
After years in jail and endless guilt, Hannah Carson has a new shot at life. What will she do when she realizes that nothing is how it was? She has to start over; from having eve...
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Hannah
Pain is such a complex feeling.
In my life, I discovered that there was so much more to pain than just the ache. There's regret. Guilt. All the things I wished I could change—the things I knew I would never fix. The damage I'd done.
The thing about guilt is that it's all-consuming. It has no compassion, it has no consideration for anyone; it eats you alive. Devours any sense of peace in existence.
I knew it from experience.
And in front of me was a man utterly consumed by what he felt. In front of me, the man I loved felt every bit of guilt possible. In front of me his conflicted emotions took over like a wave drowning out the little hope he had. It vanished before my eyes. I let my own tears fall as I heard him cry for the first time in front of me—the most heart-wrenching sight I'd ever witnessed.
I'd seen him broken before, but the man in front of me—his guard was down. He handed me his heart openly, all the little pieces, hopeful that maybe I could heal it.
"I'm so sorry."
I took a deep breath, forcing away my own emotions so I'd be able to talk to him. I never discussed my suicide attempt with anyone, just a few times with Evelyn, but now it was time. He was the one I'd be willing to tell everything to, Derek deserved it.
This conversation, it always belonged to us.
"Stand up," I whispered, sniffling quietly.
His arms wrapped around my body, fear in their hold and love in their touch.
His green eyes stared back at me with regret, torn and devastated. I couldn't imagine what he felt but I didn't need to—the hurt in his gaze said everything I needed to know.
Placing my hands on each side of his face, I smiled tenderly at him, reminding him that I was still here. My life didn't end thanks to Evie, thanks to some crazy twist of fate. It wasn't my time. I reached up and pressed a small, loving kiss on his lips.
He didn't let me go.
Stay with me.
"Have you ever felt so lost, so confused that all you want to do is disappear?"
A sense of familiarity invaded his expression.
He knew.
But we all deal with pain different. Some go out for a run, some write music or poetry. Some resort to humor or acting. And some of us turn to darker places.
