The Devil You Know Is Better Than The Angel You Don't Know

hen. Nathan sat at the worn wooden table, the faint scent of dinner wafting through the air. He absen

hts. Her long, chestnut hair cascaded down her back in soft waves, framing her heart-shaped face. Despite the exhaustion et

thoughts of another woman. A woman he had met at work, with a figure that seemed to defy gravity and a smil

insides. He knew what he was about to do would break her heart, but he couldn't deny the pull he felt towards the ot

roat, hesitating for a moment before fin

r features as she met Nathan's gaze. "W

I... I've met someone else," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper

as she reached out to steady herself against the t

ed with guilt. "It's just... I don't know how to explain it. This o

itchen, broken only by the steady ticking of the clock on the wall. Nathan watc

ver be repaired. But try as he might, he couldn't shake the feeling that he was making the ri

wn a road filled with regret and longing. And that sometimes