My heart drums in my chest at the way Mariano defends me from his mother. He stands between us, his hand holding mine as if to tell me that I don't need to worry because he'll always be there for me.
Honestly, I don't feel threatened. His mother calling me a whore—while her purpose is to insult me—doesn't do much for me. Words are hardly insults unless you let them affect you. People get overly sensitive these days, but me right now? I couldn't care less. I know who I am and who I'm not. I'm not going to cry over something that someone has called me to inflict pain. I simply won't.
She doesn't scare me. People who hurt my husband don't.
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