Unmade Choices: A Love Rebuilt
es was the last th
metal, the shatter of glass, and
a mangled wreck on the Brooklyn Bridge. We were on our way to the mediator's of
h coming in ragged gasps. Blood tr
, and she whispered, her voice a g
d do it al
were slo
ulian... lived a real art
ss hours on Wall Street to fund her dream gallery, the blue-collar ki
starving arti
aching emergency vehicles swam in and out of fo
I bl
The low murmur of polite conversation buzzed around me. I was standiparty. The Hamptons co
s the room and saw Isabella, radiant in her white dress, la
dified, a commotion eru
li
jeans, a wild look in his eyes. He cut a path through t
uddenly silent ballroom. "Don't do this. Don't th
with me. Live a life of passion, of real
first life, Isabella had looked mortified, cl
time was
ulian to me, a strange mix of recognition a
ky breath and
, her voice trembling b
ing from her finger. She didn't even look at me. Sh
twisted metal ring from his pocke
ng near the back, looked like they wa
choice. And this tim
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