Page 17 of P.S. I'm Still Yours

Weird request, but I’ll agree to anything at this point. The wait is killing me.

“I promise. Now, gimme.”

Satisfaction swells in my chest when Kane hands me the notebook. It’s like I’m holding a part of his soul in my hand. Like he’s letting me into a corner of his brain no one’s ever explored before.

My gaze shoots to the title of his song.

Golden Cage.

I can’t explain the painful lump forming in my throat.

Protector of my life

Saved me from the cold

Protector of my smile

Shackled and controlled

Might as well suffer with style

For me, you sold your soul

Pretty house you built on lies

But it was never yours

Money over happiness

Hurt yourself so I’d be safe

Count the bruises on your face

A golden cage is still a cage

Money over happiness

Lived in fear so I’d be brave

Count the wounds and scars he left

A golden cage is still a cage

I thought I was ready for his words. I thought he’d be writing about heartbreak or love. I expected many things, but not this.

Not for a second.

I devour his lyrics, finishing the second verse of his song in no time and swallowing my emotions like a pill that refuses to go down. This is what’s going on inside his head.

Count the wounds and scars he left.

This song has to be about his dad. I knew his dad was abusive to him, but was he also abusive to his mom? Unless they’re metaphorical wounds?

Might as well suffer with style.

Kind of sounds like he’s a bit resentful toward Evie.

Like she knew what was going on and she was being abused, too. I want to ask him about it so bad. But then I remember what he said.