Frankie Sullivan was everything I wasn’t.
She was good, beautiful and strong.
She hadn’t let her past break her.
She’d held on to the hope for a better tomorrow, not only for herself but for her two boys.
She was a woman who wanted...who deserved more.

I wasn’t a man who could give more.
I was cold, broken and full of rage.
My past had broken me.
I never allowed anyone get too close.

I’d tried to fight the pull I felt towards her.
But all the little things—her smile, her light, the feel of her skin on mine—drew me in.

It was all the little things that would become my undoing.