Unable to enter the gates of the Whitmore family estate, Julian began waiting outside every single day.
Rain or shine, he never left.
He stood there like a stone statue that refused to move.
At first, I found it unbearable. The disgust and nausea inside me were impossible to suppress.
But as time passed, my heart became completely numb.
I no longer felt even the slightest ripple of emotion. I was too tired to even hate him anymore.
Every day, he continued writing handwritten letters to me. But I didn't even think opening them was worth my time. I simply had my personal maid summarize the contents and treated them as a source of amusement during tea breaks.
In those letters, he kept reminiscing about our past—the years we had spent growing up together, the innocent flutter of young l
