“A letter?” Yvonne asked me.
He nodded.
“Did you read it?” I asked him.
“No,” He shook his head. “How could I? It is yours to read.”
“I don’t want to.” I answered and just got up from there, walking out of the room.
“What if it’s very important?” Yvonne argued, stopping me right at the exit.
I looked back. “Justification of why he left isn’t very important. He already gave one.”
“And what is that?”
The pain became fresh again as she threw that question at me. The answer to it was something I didn’t want to think about yet but I was forced to. As I drifted off, I again heard his car driving off as if it was happening all over again and how I helplessly just stood there and unknowingly watched my happiness leave. With every memory of that day repeating itself in my mind, the agony gr
