RHETT
I didn’t even goto the court today. I skipped our lesson. I can’t go near her.
Cassandra…
I sit on the tailgate of my truck, parked in the servants’ lot of Arthur’s mansion, my elbows on my knees and my hands twisted up in my hair. My gym bag is half-packed beside me but not zipped, and beside it, my letter of resignation, poking out of an unsealed envelope.
I haven’t licked it yet, because if I do–if I make things final and leave–I know I’ll never see her again.
Cassandra…
Just thinking her name feels like a sin. A sin I’d commit a thousand times over if it meant feeling her breath hitch just before our lips pressed together. If it meant being able to feel her slim waist in the palm of my hand.
Yesterday I told her not to be late, and now I’m the one who doesn’t show.
It has
