Girls That Finish The Job
Girls That Finish The Job Pic(s)
The fading afternoon light painted the room in shades of gold and long, soft shadows, catching the dust motes dancing around her still form. He stood across from her, the silence between them a heavy, tangible thing, thick with unspoken words and broken promises. Her gaze remained fixed on his hands, the same hands that had once traced the line of her jaw with such reverence, now clenched at his sides. A single, traitorous tear escaped, tracing a hot path down her cheek as she replayed the whispered lies he had spun like silk. She could feel the phantom warmth of his embrace, a cruel echo against the chilling reality that now encased her heart. The scent of his cologne, once a comforting anchor, now felt cloying and foreign in the air she struggled to breathe. Every memory, once so vivid and bright, began to fray at the edges, unraveling into a tapestry of deceit. Her own reflection in the windowpane showed a woman she barely recognized, her eyes holding a deep, profound sorrow. The distance between them felt infinite, a chasm carved not by steps, but by his betrayals. A soft, broken sigh escaped her lips, the only sound in the quiet funeral of their love.
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