I've loved him since I was thirteen years old, and like a foolish little girl, I believed that our love would carry us through everything. Every challenge. Every obstacle. Every heartbreak. But that was before I knew anything about pain and the challenge of overcoming crushing disappointment. Before I knew that loving someone doesn't always mean you get to have them, sometimes it means you have to let them go.
Now, thanks to my sister marrying his brother at a romantic resort in Mexico, he's back in my orbit. Making me question the choice I made all those years ago, reminding me of our history every time he looks me in the eye, touching me like I still belong to him, and demanding that I give him another chance.
In my life. In my bed. In my heart.
And as tempted as I am to say yes, there's still a part of me that can't forget what it was like to let him go, to live with our broken forever haunting me.
I survived losing him once, but I'm not so sure I can do it again.
