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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