My Endless Sorrow
Moments later, my phone buzzed with a message—an address.
In the past, I would have swallowed every ounce of pain and humiliation, dragging myself to complete whatever task Lucas threw at me—out of guilt, out of some desperate attempt to lessen his resentment toward me.
But not anymore.
Without a thought, I opened a delivery app and hired a courier.
My best friend set down the bowl of porridge she’d been holding, her eyes red as she tucked the blanket around me.
"Lily, why are you still holding on to Lucas? How much more does he want? How long is he going to keep torturing you? Does he want to drive you to the edge?"