She tricked me.

The bitch.

Here I am, caught with my dick in my hands like I'm some angst-ridden, pimply teenager.

How was I supposed to know she'd come back? I assumed she was off gallivanting in some exotic location with a billionaire she compelled. But no. Instead she's pretending to be someone who made me appear like a fucking love struck dumbass.

Back to the topic at hand.

She's back.

But why? And for how long?

Even though she's ten pounds of crazy bitch in a five pound bag, even though she ripped me apart, even though everything she touches turns to shit, I still can't help but hold out hope.

Maybe she came back for me.