My Teenage Sweetheart
That evening, I drove aimlessly through the city, trying to numb the storm inside me.
The cruel irony burned. I had sacrificed Vanessa…
Later that night, I sat in my study, drowning in the silence.
But as I leaned back in my chair, I reached for my phone. My thumb hesitated before unlocking it, then I scrolled through the gallery.
There she was. Vanessa. Her head resting on my chest, her lips curved into the soft smile that always made my heart stop. Another picture—her hair spilling over my pillow, looking up at me with sleepy eyes as if I was her whole world. Then one where I had caught her laughing, her cheeks flushed from my teasing.
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