My Second Chance Billionaire Lover

weight of a date, July 9th, pressing against her breasts. Actually, it is this day. Time hasn't really changed a lot for her. She could

ox lying under her bed. Inside, they would lay nineteen letters-al

d from the pack, smoothed over h

Adr

et here I find myself writing to you as if you were just away on some long trip and that one d

th letter. I think you should feel really spec

our hands hanging out the window, pretending we were flying. Do you remember the last time we did that? We talked about leavi

don't

, some unspoken goodbye hidden in your eyes-but there was nothing. Just sile

I will not say I hate you b

th: I m

en something was very wrong with me without me saying a wor

fe you live now-perhaps you have a world that

e part of me

a dumb thin

r y

mi

orpse. But Adrian could never leave her, could he? It was more of a haunting presence in the silen

rked to guilty surprise, Camille's pulse skipped a beat as she turned to the window. Outside, it looked like

st

typi

the bed, the letter still open in her hands. The small lamp that ill

h a single tear had slipped away. In quick, decisive motions

past the girl Adrian had left behind, yet at t

ark brown eyes now didn't brim with insane dreams, but were careful with age. Her hair, once wild, now fell

t was small but entirely her own, friends who never proud too much about her past

e always pro

ing on its edges as she whispered, "It's alrea

e words left her lips, a so

her life? Whispered it into the no

had never

had come to accept

barrage against the windows. Camille ground her teeth and meticul

last one," sh

was dead. He was not coming back. And

will throw the

hem; w

away for good

at she to

lle knew

to promise herself to stop, the ink

atter how long it's bee

ip back in just when