Chapter 6
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“Didn’t I explain it to you last time?”
“Emily and I were just playing around. Even when I slept with her, it didn’t mean anything.”
“Besides, she’s not as good looking as you, her body’s not as good as yours, so why are you even bothered?”
The words worked.
Grace curved her lips in satisfaction and turned her head.
She met my gaze across the room.
Her brows lifted slightly, like a silent provocation.
My chest tightened. I wanted to stand up and leave, but I couldn’t help it. My eyes locked
on that calm, distant man and my feet wouldn’t move.
Grace’s fingertips hooked around his tie. Her voice was sultry.
“Then tell me. In bed, do you prefer Emily or me?”
Logan let out a low laugh.
“That stiff little thing? She could never compare to a naughty girl like you.”
My throat tightened and a cold chill spread from my spine to my fingertips.
I vaguely remembered that moment in our little rental house.
The lights had been dim. The mood had been soft.
was awkward and shy, afraid I might ruin everything.
He had been gentle, indulgent, holding me close with care, whispering sweet words.
“You’re so pure. It’s intoxicating.”
But now it was nothing more than a careless insult. “Stiff.”
My nails dug deep into my palm, but I didn’t feel a thing.
Grace was in a fine mood. Her small frame leaned into Logan.
“Oh? I don’t remember being naughty.”
Their bodies were so close, any little movement passed instantly between them.
Logan’s gaze darkened.
“Grace…”
“Want to try something exciting?”
“What do you mean?”
Grace smiled and tilted her chin.
“Ever tried it in front of a mirror?”
Logan’s movements stopped. He looked up along her line of sight and his gaze landed
Chapter 5
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06:51 Tue, 17 Jun A
squarely-
On me.
My heart dropped. I clenched my fists.
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Through the reflection in the expansive glass wall, they could see me and I could see them.
Logan’s throat moved, then with one arm, he pulled Grace toward the floor–to–ceiling
mirror.
“Little troublemaker.”
I stood motionless as blood pounded through me.
Just one meter away, their bodies entwined.
Early the next morning, I left the house.
My body was worsening each day and I needed to prepare for what came next.
In a small funeral planning office, I spoke softly, listing my wishes.
“Keep it simple. No loud mourning. No obituary. No formal service.”
“When the time comes, please have me cremated. Close out my records. Bury me quietly. If anyone remembers me, burn some paper.”
“I’ll give you the cemetery address. As for anything I leave behind, there probably won’t be much. Just donate it to a charity.”
I paid the full amount.
Then I went to the cemetery, made the final payment and changed the name listed on the
grave.
I looked up into the blinding sunlight.
Next, I needed to think about what to leave behind for my headstone.
I had nothing of value. Nothing I particularly wanted. The only thing worth remembering was the three years I spent with Logan.
I bought a pink diary. Holding it gently, I ran my fingers across the heart–shaped design on
the cover.
I’d always kept journals.
Three years of entries, now stacked neatly in my rental home.
Since Logan’s supposed “cancer,” I hadn’t touched them.
But in the days I had left, I would write the ending of my life.
“Emily.”
Logan’s voice came weakly as he opened the door to greet me.
I didn’t know how long he’d been waiting in the rental house.
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