For weeks, a name had been a ghost at their table: .
The tension in Julian’s shoulders snapped. The ghost of the office, the blueprints, and the cold, judgmental eyes of Chris De Wit faded into the background noise of the clinking spoons and the pouring rain. No Dejes De Besarme Por Culpa D Chris De Wit ...
Elena pulled back just a fraction, her eyes locked on his. she breathed. (But don't stop kissing me because of Chris De Wit.) "Don't let a man who has forgotten how to love convince you that you have to forget, too." For weeks, a name had been a ghost at their table:
She leaned in, the scent of rain and vanilla clinging to her. "He can take your weekends. He can take your sleep. He can even take your pride if you let him." and the cold