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The Scar He Left: Finding True Love

The Scar He Left: Finding True Love

Author: Gavin
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Chapter 1

Word Count: 1188    |    Released on: Today at 14:27

wiped the sweat from his brow and taught him to wa

sed me a

riend, Charlie, returned fr

I needed to walk to you

her's cherished wooden puzzle box and blamed me. She

n't check the security footage

gging into my cheeks, and forced

ove you're

e hot liquid searing my skin. He chose the woman w

k, deleted every photo, a

rehabilitation clinic in Australia, wearing a diamond

host. He had finally discovered that Charlie was a fraud who

beg for f

, I didn't feel anger

on him and walk

pte

nda

ays of devotion-evaporated in the span of a single se

rutch I needed to w

of Colton's favorite organic kale smoo

when he screamed from the white-hot agony of nerve regeneration, and declined a triple-salar

I was hi

nvinced myself I

m, my small frame buckling under his inert weight. We had sunk to the floor together, his heavy, ragged

d whispered, his voice rough with a vulnerabil

burning the midnight oil, researching experim

s study, that fuel turne

aughed. It was Jayden, his best friend

nveloped me just yesterday. "But gratitude isn't love. Charlie is coming

u when you crashed the car?" Isaias asked, sounding in

, cutting me to the bone. "She knows her place. She's a therapist. Charlie is... Charlie is t

ip fa

ipped from

t my hip in a clumsy reflex, but the smoothie splashed ove

hed, deafening whine tha

e me. He didn

ng the car so he could drive

ned a

n. I didn't care about the p

that had been my home for three years. My breath hitched

door into the garden,

aker caught on a

slammed into the gravel,

h the fabric of my torn leggings. The sting in my knees was groundin

ed at me with such intense self-hatred, and I had smiled, promising him he would run

a j

embling legs to move, and limped t

. There, buried under a stack of medical journals, was a check.

" she had said, her voice cold and t

ulted then. Now,

d up th

the nightstand. A

sed. Charlie is arriving at 7:15. I want

serve the woman he w

s pale, eyes red-rimmed. I looked

me-a dollar-store trinket he bought from a street vendor during our first wheelchair o

ked i

d my hand

ped with a sharp

I squeezed until a drop of blood welled up

ng up for the party drifted through the

ebrating h

broken plastic i

party. But not to

bye to the last three

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