Recommended By Angela
Recommended By Angela
This was a very brave book, tackling tough, real life experiences and encounters. I cannot believe this is based on a true story. My heart completely shattered at certain parts, not wanting to fully grasp the events I was reading. J.R. created a main character that was relate able and intriguing. Gwen is as real as they come. You feel her heartache and sadness through the words you're reading. You feel her torment & pain. At times I did not know how this story was going to end, or if I wanted it to end for that matter. Gwen and Connor fight numerous battles throughout this book, personally and together. I flipped each page hoping that she was going to end up with Connor and the twist towards the end definitely got me! Such an emotional read, in every way possible.
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Our Favorite Quotes
When I think of his eyes and the way they looked at me I can convince myself that my heart isn't still mangled. I can convince myself I am a little bit whole.
When he reaches me, he kisses me like he means it, and he always has. Even when he hated me, he kissed me with the kind of honesty I let die in my throat. He is beauty and life and I am alive because he believes in me, for some reason. The fairy tales don't compare to the work he does. To the day in and the day out. He endures.
I can’t let good in all the way, not yet. I will rebel against it until I die. I will rebel and I will be me, ugly and torn. I can’t be less.
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From The Publisher
My love is poison. His kiss is mine.
“The first time he saw me I was shattered glass, and he was a shadow. If I had stayed, he would have just faded away.”
It’s strange how easy it is to tell our stories to a stranger’s eyes. The truth about Connor Stratford and I had always been a sad tale. Over ten years of chasing, tears, lies, vows, and leaving. Two people who never loved each other at the same time, but couldn’t let each other go.
Now here I was telling our story over drinks midday in an airport bar with my old diary clutched in my hand. Telling some version of our story, anyway.
I left him once with no goodbye. Now I was returning home to give him what he needed to move on.
“It’s important. It’s what you’re thinking.”
I knew what his message meant, sent in the middle of the night after I woke from a fever dream.
He was finally ready, and so was I. I just needed to finally give him the kiss he begged for.
The one that meant goodbye.