53. Hannah

FIFTY-THREE

I shut and lock the door, then watch through the peephole as Maddox walks to his car.

Let me do some of that caring too.

My forehead drops to the door.

Being with him— around him— it's just so goddamn easy.

It shouldn't be. Not after all this time.

I let my anger toward him cloud my happiness for so long.

It felt like it was a part of me. That bitterness. And I thought I'd have it forever.

But it's gone.

Just like that, it's gone.

I don't want to be angry anymore. I don't want to be hurt.

I don't want to put caution before passion.

I don't want any of that.

I just want Maddox.