Standing in the same park they had once visited together, Claire wondered whether Christian even remembered it. Then, as they talked, she couldn't help noticing just how much had changed between them.
She wore worn-out clothes, and even getting by from day to day had become difficult. Christian, meanwhile, stood before her looking more handsome than she remembered, dressed casually in clothes that appeared simple at first glance but were clearly expensive and carefully chosen. There was even a subtle sense of feminine taste in the way they had been put together.
Was that the taste of the woman whose hand he hadn't let go of even while talking to her?
Claire glanced at Anastasia, then dismissed the thought. Somehow, she didn't think so.
They were standing barely a few centimeters apart, yet Claire couldn't help feeling as though an enormous chasm separated them, one that could never be crossed.
I really did have him once.
Even if it had only lasted a month.
