Michelle Hodkin

“Then you will love him to ruins,”

If I truly loved him, she said, I would let him go.

I wished I loved him enough.

And on the back were just three words, but they were the most beautiful words in the English language:

I believe you.

Maybe I shouldn’t have worried. Maybe we were okay.

“Jude’s here,” I said.

Noah’s voice wasn’t loud but it was strong when he spoke. “I believe you.”

“You gave a child, in a psych ward, a lighter.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. “She seemed trustworthy.”

“You’re sick,” I said, but smiled.

“Nobody’s perfect.” Noah smiled back.

“Sometimes, Noah, I feel an overwhelming urge to punch you in the face.”

“I would say you’ll make a liar out of me, but I was one long before we met.”

“How long do you want me?” he asked.

How long can I have you? I thought.