Page 122 of Parrish
My gaze drifts to the mirror and I don’t just see my reflection. I see Jack’s too.
I see us simultaneously brushing our teeth.
I see him standing behind me, lips touching my shoulder as his hands explore my scars.
My scars.
Oh, my scars.
More beautiful.
They tell the story of a girl who was lost and found in the arms of the broken man who freed her. The man who made it okay to look in the mirror.
The man who made her want to live.
Who gave her life.
Who made her feel beautiful.
Loved.
Cherished.
Cloaked in leather, riding on a chrome horse, Jack Parrish was and forever will be my Knight. The man who placed a pen in my hand and urged me to write an unforgettable love story with him.
