"I'm not going," I tell my mother right before they walk out the door.
She frowns at me. "Why not?"
"I'll go later," I say.
The frown doesn't disappear but she nods.
"I love you," she says quietly, giving me hug.
She looks at me meaningfully for a moment before Mari's father calls her name. She whirls around and follows him out the door.
I know what she meant when she looked at me. I know that she doesn't want me to do anything wrong- rash, as she'd say it.
I should care about her and Mari's father.
I don't.
YOU ARE READING
letters
Romancethey were five when they started writing. they were seventeen when they stopped. he was eighteen when he read her letters. he was nineteen when everything fell apart. +cover creds to abhaya ♥︎
