“If I knew then, what I know now, would I change any of it?
No. Not the pace of events and not the way of fate either. Something I didn’t really believe in, which seemed to play a hand in my destiny.
I couldn’t imagine not feeling his hands upon me. Not seeing that look of hunger, of possession, of need in his eyes every time he was near me or in the same room as me. His firm expressions, the power he had over others, hell, over me. That body, those scars, the tattoos, his hidden identity, unknown to a town that would never be the same, they just didn’t know it. Not to me, or those he brought in, squeezed into a community of unknown civilians.
I couldn’t imagine life without him. The palm of his hand pressed up against my breast, his warm, firm lips demanding, pulling, drawing so much sensuality from within me, it makes me feel like some sensual goddess with much more experience with men than I actually have. No. nothing would be the same without him. Nothing.
So who is obsessed now? Who is the one living out a fantasy? Who has become part of a world I never knew existed, but now reaped the benefits of? (Hmmm.) America. A land of opportunity, a means to success if you have the guts, the determination, and the fight within you to succeed. That’s me. That’s him, and all the others in this world, this hidden life others couldn’t even fantasize about having.
Made in America. I’d do it all over again. I’d do it, for him.“