Chapter 45

45

Aviva

L ove was ash.

Love was dirt.

Love hurt, blinded, charred, turned anything and everything into dust.

Jack.

I could see him in my mind—like a ghost. An apparation. Not real.

He would haunt me forever.

Jack, my love, how could you leave me like this? How will I survive without your special brand of loving torment? How will I go on?

Jack, I love you.

Jack, I’m sorry.

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