SINCERELY YOURS

ed head, he struggled to push aside his black tawny curls that obstructed his view. Frustrated, he fumbled wi

ong, and overwhelmingly melancholic. Although he hadn't been particularly close to his grandfather, who had raised him, the significance of their relatio

ly, unable to shake off thei

hheld until the legal requirement

d you say? He i

suppose he thought it would be a maturing experience for you to bid

ing me...ev

It's quite

ell then, I suppose I

so. Goo

.good

is grandfather to sever all his financial freedoms. Yes, he indulged in street racing, vacations, women, and alcohol excessively, but that was his way of living life to the fullest

h hard work and knowledge, which he found ridiculous. He was French, after all, brimming w

ther found a way to control his life. Find a wife, settle down, have children—always the same unappealing nonsense! He had no desire for a wife, and he doubted

together. He was a straightforward man with simple tastes. If he found a woman appealing, he would seduce her, bluntly asking if she

doubted he would ever experience it. Passion, yes—endless, intoxicating passion—but not

along the walkway beside the Seine River, he found himself singing a lively French song, his slurred words melding

aftertaste. It was a far cry from the refined spirits he had once indulged in. But in his current state of despair, he cared little for the

s once-clear enunciation was now distorted by the alcohol, turning the French lyrics into a garbled mess. Yet, he continued t

symphony of drunkenness. And as he sang, his voice echoed through the empty streets, a poignant testament to his state of intoxication and the emotional turmoil that consumed him., his hands n

fro

ile his knees buckled, causing

sumed him, striking his heart with unparalleled intensity. In that moment

d just

g uncontrollably, clad in a wedding dress? And most importantly, why was she st

en. Her beautiful brown upturned hair resembled rich mahogany, her petite and shapely body promised exquisite pleasure, and her soul-crushing eyes

g everything he thought he knew about

ious woman perched on the ledge above the Seine. No other woman mattered in that moment. Forget t