Jena

“You told me to get on my knees before you and apologize,” he said. “This is me saying I’m sorry, for all that I have done to you, for all the heartache I have caused, for giving you no choice but to resort to the most wildest of plans to ease the pain I wrought. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but this one thing I seek, so that I may remain near you.”
I must have stared at him for a long, excruciating moment, because he whispered my name. I shifted across the mattress, sitting on the edge of the bed before him, my feet touching the floor. I was afraid to speak—even his name might break me—and I took his face in my hands.
Phelan’s arms came around me. “Tell me what you want me to do,” he said. “Tell me to leave, and I will.”
My fingers slid into his hair. “Stay,” I whispered.”
― Rebecca Ross, Dreams Lie Beneath