“Tell me a story.” My voice came
out weak and feeble.
“What kind of story?”
“A love story.” I could his feel
his eyes on me, but I didn’t dare look at him, knowing that if I did, I would
instantly forgive him for everything, which wasn’t what he deserved.
He glanced up, feeling the rain on
his face for the first time. “Well, I could tell you one, but it wouldn’t compare.”
“Compare to what?”
“Living in it.”
I looked into his eyes, so he could
see the dagger he had just put into my heart with those words.
“A love story shouldn’t consist of
lies, betrayals, and schemes. You played me for a fool.”
“Only for a fool in love, just like
I am.”
He reached for my hand, but I
recoiled from his touch.
“Then this story ends here, with an
unhappy ending.”
“No, this is just the beginning. We
are just beginning,” he said with a pleading look.
“I’m afraid we’re on the wrong
page, in fact, I think we’re in separate books.” With that I walked away, aware
that he was witnessing the moment where I walked out of his life forever.
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