I hate my long hair, but you love it so I kept it.
I hate red clothes, but you love them so I wore them.
I hate my glasses, but you love them so I kept them.
I hate apologizing for something I'm not sorry for, I hate not having my opinion and I hate my quietness.
I use to love your possessiveness, your jealousy and your protectiveness, but now I hate it.
I'm sorry. I have to leave. I have to find myself and I have to become a person I want to be not the person you want me to be.
Don't think for one second I don't love you, because I do and I always will.
YOU ARE READING
When a male werewolf turns eighteen he can choose a mate. Mostly they choose she-wolves, but sometimes they choose a human. Six years later Brooklyn returns in the town she grow up in. She's not quite insecure girl she use to be. She's independent...