Whatever That Is
Natasha can kick my ass, and for that I'm infinitely glad. She literally knocked the sense back into me. Hard. You can be damn sure I'm grateful. I deserved those knocks to the head—I deserved far worse. What I didn't deserve was a second chance—at least, I sure as hell don't feel like I deserved one.
She says she doesn't love me, and I'm genuinely okay with that. I don't care what she calls it or doesn't call it; I'll take it. Because I sure as hell don't deserve whatever that is either.