"They choose freedom." I let that sink in. "Freedom from pretending they don't want things society says they shouldn't. Freedom from guilt over desires that don't fit neat little boxes—like begging their nephew to breed them.
"Freedom to be exactly who they are without apology, to spread their legs and take what they crave without being shackled down by anything. Freedom to go as wild as they want to. The freedom to say no to whatever they want to say to without facing consequences for it."
Her hand came up—hesitated in the space between us, trembling—then settled on my chest. Palm flat over my heart. Feeling it beat, hard and steady. Her fingers curled slightly, nails scraping my skin.
"And what do you get?"
"Everything I want." I covered her hand with mine, held it there, my thumb brushing her wrist where her pulse thundered. "Without having to lie about wanting it. Without forcing. Just taking what's offered.
