Shatter-Me-PDF-Shatter-Me-Series-Shatter-Me-Shatter-Me-1-Tahereh-Mafi (1)

The possibility of losing him
The possibility of losing him is 100 years of solitude I don’t
want to imagine. I don’t want my arms to be devoid of his
warmth. His touch. His lips, God his lips, his mouth on my
neck, his body wrapped around mine, holding me together
as if to affirm that my existence on this earth is not for
nothing.
Realization is a pendulum the size of the moon. It won’t
stop slamming into me.
“Juliette?”
I swallow back the bullet in my throat. “Yes?”
“Why are you crying . . . ?” His voice is almost as gentle as
his hand as it breaks free from my grip. He touches the
tears rolling down my face and I’m so humiliated I almost
don’t know what to say.
“You can touch me,” I say for the first time, recognize out
loud for the first time. My words fade to a whisper. “You can
touch me. You care and I don’t know why. You’re kind to me
and you don’t have to be. My own mother didn’t care
enough to—t-to—” My voice catches and I press my lips
together. Glue them shut. Force myself to be still.
I am a rock. A statue. A movement frozen in time. Ice feels
nothing at all.
Adam doesn’t answer, doesn’t say a single word until he
pulls off the road and into an old underground parking
garage. I realize we’ve reached some semblance of
civilization, but it’s pitch-black belowground. I can see next
to nothing and once again wonder at how Adam is
managing. My eyes fall on the screen illuminated on his
dashboard only to realize the tank has night vision. Of
course.
Adam shuts off the engine. I hear him sigh. I can hardly
distinguish his silhouette before I feel his hand on my thigh,
his other hand tripping its way up my body to find my face.
Warmth spreads through my limbs like molten lava. The tips