The Boy Who Broke His Legs for Me​

Summary

At eighteen, Asher Vance shielded me with his body, letting a group of thugs beat him until he was bloodied and half-dead.

Lying on a stretcher, someone asked him if he regretted it.

He was barely conscious, but he laughed, wild and unrestrained.

“Regret it? What’s a couple of broken legs?”

“I’ve got a wife now, don’t I?”

At twenty-eight, I slid the wedding ring from my finger and placed it on the table, along with the pink hair tie I’d found in his pocket.

He picked up the hair tie, the one the little girl had used to taunt me.

Leaning against the wall, he watched me with a smirk.