Stolen Heart
She reaches for the nearest thing, a cushion to steady herself against the falling world.
“What? You snake. How could you do that?” The accusation is raw, barely contained grief and a sudden, bright anger. Her voice trembles so much it sounds fragile. That tremor is my happiness.
Her shame cracks me open in the best possible way. For a moment I feel lightheaded, like I’m floating above the whole scene, watching her shatter and knowing I did it. “I love Jude,” I tell her, letting the confession land like a stone. “I’ve loved him for a very long time. So darling, leave him to me. He is with me now.” I let my voice soften. “I can’t forget how sweet last night was, the way he touched me, the way
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