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The story has ended
"Love cleanses, beloved. It doesn't beat you down. It doesn't cast blame. My love isn't a weapon. It's a lifeline. Reach out and take hold, and don't let go.”\\n \\n
Though fallen low, God raised her up, an angel.\\n
5 STARS
She thought she had been saved by his love for her, and in part she had been. It had cleansed her, never casting blame. But that had been only the beginning. It was loving him in return that had brought her up out of the darkness.
What was it about this man that got to her? She preferred the numbness to this stirring of emotion. Hope was torment. Hope was an enemy. And this man was a thorn in her side.
She was the blackest night, and he the starlight piercing it, creating an unfolding pattern in her life.
She stared at those aristocratic hands, hands without calluses, pale and manicured. Beautifully shaped hands that were capable of unspeakable cruelty.
She remembered Michael’s hands, large and strong, clearly used to hard labor. They were callused and rough. His hands had looked so cruel and yet been so gentle. His touch had healed her body and opened her heart.