I can handle scars, especially one's on the outside.

Don't be sorry, Callie,' he says with a heavy-hearted sigh. 'You have your own sad story.

The vertical lines that run down his forearms are the most disturbing, thick and jagged as if someone took a razor to his skin. I wish I could run my fingers along them and remove the pain and memories that are attached to them.

For the rest of my life?" His voice softens. "Do you want that, Ella May? Do you want me eternally, infinitely, forever, till death do us part?

No, but I've never been one for wise ideas," he says. "I believe in irrational, fleeting decisions that keep life interesting. And life needs to be interesting because we've got only one of them to live.

Love you more than life itself, more than the sun and the air. You own my soul, Ella May. Micha

I cling to him like he's what keeps me thriving. Because he is.