"Three years later and drowning in lies, we're suddenly prepared to lose everything for the chance at something real," Khloe said.

"I don't understand why we have to do this right now." He scoots his chair into the table.

"Because, Khloe Kardashian, you seem like the type of girl who will never return my calls."

"I guess that's why you're single now, and you can't decode a type of girl."

She waltzes out of the restaurant, her Chanel handbag swinging on her arm like a weapon.

✘ ✘ ✘

I know what you want, and you don't need to take it. I can give it to you.

"I'm broken," I refute, hot tears brimming. "You don't want me." His face twists in pain. "I don't think that. Neither should you." His lips graze my neck and then find my ear.

"Khlo, I want you to ask me. I need you to." He presses his forehead to my temple, gently edging me closer to the mattress, his hands tight on my hips. I continue to struggle for breath. I know what he wants now. He wants this to be real. So do I.

"Fix me," I say breathlessly.

✘ ✘ ✘ ✘

She's the drug that I gladly consume.