Clinging closer to my cardigan, I felt the gushing wind brush against my skin, blowing my long hair.
I watched as the waves lapped by the shore.
The resort was doing well; it was bustling behind me—the staff rushing, the guests laughing, and glasses clinking. But I felt like I was on the other side of the world, just watching this scenery from behind a glass.
It had been almost two months. Fifty-three days without him, to be exact.
No calls, no messages.
What kept me updated about him were the papers—the things written in the news. His business, his relationship with his shareholders, his status in life.
He was open to the media, aside from what was really personal.
Valerian was true to his word when he said he would keep his promise—from the moment he let me go until now.
Letting
