r stagnant and cold. It didn't j
ave when he s
rite the en
one hand, stripping the space of my existence. I didn't
byss. I cleared out the books on my nightstand. I took the framed photo of us f
ronic loc
ned, his eyes rimmed with red. He smelled like hospwhen he saw th
tured his voice. "W
ask of porcelain, cold and fragile-th
e honeymoon. You said we were going to the Amalfi Coast rig
ut a breath he must have been holding for hou
hand through his hair. "Of
rms around me. I stood stiff aga
okay with...
bly. "Yeah. He's stable
ia
d, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. "Tr
d my breath so I wouldn't in
he said. "Tomorrow is
wasn't a lie. I loved the fiction of it. The re
he door and ne
to my pare
he outskirts of the city, where the
nd his legs, a dark silhouette against the grey sky. The engines of t
om of the stairs and
en writing for two years. The one with thousands o
d the fin
eroine Leaves
a fiancé leaving his bride on the side of t
_Pub
d sharp like a gunshot. I han
it," I
took my hand. His grip was fi
?" he
e last time, watching the world I u
all down,
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