EMMA
I was holding the key to my existence.
The diary.
The moment Ethan gave it to my hands, I was a bit shocked to even open the pages. It had easily come to my hands like it had to. Like it had reached the right hands.
Like its wait had been over.
If the first diary was all about the lovey cringe moments, this was more drawings and random to-do things. To do things, okay.
I flushed through the papers in greed.
Her handwriting was beautiful, not to mention.
She had a lot of things in mind.
Most of them were stricken off, which meaningfully meant she had completed it.
But almost fifty-two pages were stuff she wanted to do.
Most of them were just tiny things such as,
"Holding his hand until he said, not to let go"
"Kissing him until he rolls his tongue in and pleads for more"
