"Tell me. Tell me that I never mattered to you. Tell me that every sweet note you wrote me and every 'I love you' you said was nothing. Tell me that every letter you wrote and every late night phone call was all apart of an act. Tell me that it never meant anything to you. Tell me you never felt anything when you were with me. Tell me that you were playing me, stringing me along, until you got what you wanted,' she said with tears burning her eyes and her voice breaking.
"I can't," he said.
YOU ARE READING
Excerpt from a Book I will Never Write
RastgeleA book of excerpts. Vote and comment if you'd like to.
