Alexia Monteiro

“How can you forgive what I did?"

"Because I know you. Because I've seen the best and the worst of you. Because of everything we've been through in the last hundred and thirty-nine years and what we've been through since you found me in the bar. God, because I want to move forward."

"Yea, but --"

"Because I love you, you idiot!”
― Paula Weston, Burn

“We’re not doing that, and you know it.” He doesn’t speak again I lean closer, lower my voice. “I know things are messy with us, but do you really think I could just walk away from you?”

This time he doesn’t look away. “Do you really think I’d let you?”
― Paula Weston, Haze

“There’s something in my voice that brings him back to me, overrides his buzz. ‘Gaby’—all traces of playfulness have gone—‘if anything ever happens to me, you’ll be fine. You’re strong enough to look after yourself. I hate to admit it, but you don’t need me. Never did.’ A smile. ‘But listen, nothing is going to happen today. It’s all good.’

‘Jude, we’re high enough up to get a nose bleed.’

‘So come with me.’

I blink. ‘Fuck off.’

‘I mean it. We can do this together.’ He raises his eyebrows at the girl who checked his harness. She nods.

I risk looking over the side. There’s a river far beneath us. So far down we can’t hear it. My entire body goes numb.

‘You’ve got about thirty seconds and then I’m going on my own.’

What a choice: watch my brother jump out of this car or put aside my own fear and go with him. Share the recklessness. Why didn’t we go to Paris? We’d be arguing over where to buy cheese right now.

Adrenaline begins to burn through me. ‘Screw it.’

Jude breaks into a wide smile. ‘Seriously?’

I glance at the yawning space beneath us. ‘Hurry up before I change my mind.”
― Paula Weston, Haze

“Calm down," Rafa says.
"Yeah," I say, "because you're an expert at patience."
"Which is why I look to you to set the example."
"Oh, fuck off.”
― Paula Weston, Shimmer