This wasn't the first time I'd woken up as a captive. It wasn't even the second. I so needed to reevaluate my life choices.

It hasn't escaped my notice that you only compliment me when you're intoxicated.

It hurts to much to be close to you, but continually pushed away.

My body is the only thing that’s truly mine, so I don’t give it away as though it’s worthless.

I'm attracted to a lot of hot guys. If Chris Hemsworth were here, I'd light him up like a firecracker with how fast I'd jump on him.

How could I possibly keep my cool while getting sweaty with him? What if I screamed out something horrifying, like "I love you?" What if I had an epileptic attack and started drooling or spitting right in the middle of things?

You ought to be ashamed of yourself, running around, not married, staying out all night. Ashamed!" "Ashamed!" my grandmother echoed. Good to know they still agreed on things after forty-three years of marriage.