Lavine doesn’t offer a single word or even a gesture. His fingers travel from his bangs to the pocket of his dark crop trousers. Pain perseveres in lashing my already wounded heart. How could he do this to me? I shouldn’t be the one begging for a chance, he should! The tremendously wild beats of my heart are all my ears could hear while an incorruptible weary silence takes over the atmosphere between us. This goes on even after leaving the hospital and arriving at his suite.
The first thing I notice the instant I step inside his all-familiar masculine-looking suite is the portrait of myself that wasn't there before. He might have missed me so much that he has to hang my face in the small hallway. I wonder if his other woman has seen this or if she has even been here before. I shake my cu
