I left.

He stayed.

I pulled myself away from him, but I can't understand why I'm still afraid.

Afraid of him? Or afraid of those once happy moments that are too-good-to-be-true?

Or may be I'm afraid of my own feelings...

However as time takes its own course, fate bestowed me another gift.

That is meeting you.

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This is my first story as a single author, so pardon me if there are mistakes.

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