Healing Her

Healing Her

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Mon, May 17, 2021
"Wait for me" he squeezed my hand "You're leaving? You can't, I won't survive without you" Tears streamed down my cheeks as I gripped his jacket. "Nik-" " Shh, don't cry. I'll come back and I'll protect you, just.... don't give up, don't forget me. You are perfect the way you are. Remember that" With those last words, he kissed my forehead and left. ******** Jessica has been depressed for most of her life. She wasn't considered fat, but she wasn't considered slim either and living in a world where fat was seen as taboo, she felt alienated, always thought of as second best, never good enough for anyone. She thought she didn't deserve to live but, one person made her think differently. Nikolai was the only one who saw past her facade. He was the only one who saw the real her. They bonded, shared secrets and just when Jessica was about to feel like a normal person, he left. She built back her walls and pushed everyone away. But one day, he will come back. Will she let her walls down once more, or will she push him away as well?
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Caught up in the sins and glamour of high society life, Astoria became the girl no one could trust. In order to return to grace, she must do the unthinkable: find a husband before the end of the year... before her mother chooses for her. With only 3 months remaining in the year, she decided to return to the limelight and reengages of high society life. But with everything she needed to build a future, only one question rings in her mind as she faces her fate: was it worth the price? __ The lighting was dull, but I could still see the shadows of his strong jawline, and the broad, muscular build he hid under his suit jacket. I wished I could see more of him-I wished I could see his face. I was intrigued by him, by the man who couldn't seem to look away. I blinked a few times before turning my cheek, suddenly conscious of the way his hidden eyes bore into me; I could almost feel the intensity of his gaze burning holes into my skull. Maybe he knew who I was; maybe he was one of the people I had crossed, they all looked the same to me. I had too many skeletons in my closet to be able to keep track of who was an ally and who was an enemy. If he was the latter, God help me. It was just the two of us outside now on the once compact Parisian streets. We were completely alone. He could do or say whatever he wanted and no one would bare witness. And yet, neither of us moved, too afraid to disrupt the perfect serenity of the moment. I opened my mouth to speak, but I could not bring myself to utter a word. For the first time, I was scared to know what someone was thinking about me. I wanted to know the type of woman he saw staring back at him. I hoped he saw the woman I was pretending to be: the regal, glamorous, refined young lady I'd been bred to become. But somehow I knew he saw me differently. The man who could not look away could see everything, and I just hoped, for the both of us, that he saw how sorry I was.

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