Isabel When we broke apart from the kiss for some air, I still refused to let go of him. I clung onto him like life itself, afraid that if I let go, I'd lose him like he lost me all those years ago. “I know that asking, why didn't you tell me all along, is such a weird question, but why?” He breathed out a laugh, and I couldn't help but to smile along. “No, on a very serious note, why?” “Hmm,” he traced circles on the exposed part of my waist, and pretended to be lost in thoughts for a while, “when exactly do you think I should have told you? When you were married to my brother, making love eyes at him?” I swatted his arm playfully. “The night before the wedding,” I clarified and he raised his eyebrows. “You were there when he was confessing to my sister.” “And risk becoming a douche like him in your ey
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