The one with the tattoos and the look in his eyes that told me he was bad news. The look that comes with all sorts of warnings.
I knew what I was doing. I knew by the way he put his hands on me; how he owned me with his forceful touch.
I couldn’t say no to him, not that I wanted to. That was then, and it seems like forever ago.
Years later, I’ve grown up and moved on. But he’s still the man I married. Dangerous in ways I don’t like to think about. I did this to myself. I knew better than to fall for him.