I Cared For Him Twenty Years, Only For His Love Letters To Belong To Another Girl Chapter 08

I Cared For Him Twenty Years, Only For His Love Letters To Belong To Another Girl Chapter 08

Thorne stood there helplessly, ring in hand, as I turned cold.

Beside him, Vivian was glaring at hirt with fury. “Thorne, don’t you dare forget who saved you from that bathroom stall. You wouldn’t have made it to your mother in time without me.”

Thorne’s entire body went rigid at her words.

My heart started pounding.

Back in my freshman year of high school, I’d stayed late to work on the class bulletin board. I saw a group of boys snickering as they ran out of the boys’ bathroom, glancing back over their shoulders.

After they left, something felt off. I worked up the courage to go in.

But it was completely silent. “Is anyone there?”

Still nothing. But I heard heavy breathing, and it scared me half to death. “Are you locked in?”

I pulled the wooden stick out of the latch on the last stall door and bolted out of there. I hid by the classroom door and peeked back.

A boy stumbled out a moment later and ran off.

That boy-it was Thorne?

So Thorne had mistaken Vivian for his rescuer all this time.

I wasn’t planning to tell him the truth. Because when Vivian said those words, the obsessive glint in Thorne’s eyes as he looked at me faded just a little.

I let out a deep breath of relief.

Once I won gold at the next competition, I’d disappear for good

But things that happen have a way of coming to light.

In my last life, I never knew about any of it. So Thorne went to his grave believing Vivian was the one who

saved him.

Now I knew the truth but had no intention of revealing it. I thought it would stay buried just like before.

Instead, Thorne recognized the hair tie on my head.

Graham had found it in my old backpack-the one with the little bunny on it. He’d coaxed me into wearing it for him before I left the house. After I put it on, he kissed me for so long that I nearly ran late.

I didn’t have time to take it off before arriving at the competition team.

The moment I walked in, Thorne’s eyes locked onto my head.

The boy who never showed emotion suddenly lunged forward and crushed me into his arms.

“Laurel. You were the one drawing the bulletin board that day, weren’t you?”

I struggled with all my strength, screaming for Derek.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! Derek! Help!”

Derek came running at the sound of my cries.

“Thorne! What the hell are you doing?!”

He pried Thorne off me. Hot tears splashed onto my hands. It took me a second to realize it. Thorne Whitmore-the boy with emotional dysfunction-was crying.

He cried harder and harder, like a child who’d been wronged.

But I didn’t feel what I used to feel. In my last life, whenever he showed real emotion, I’d be overjoyed.

Now all I felt was annoyance. Annoyed by his instability. Annoyed that he kept disrupting my life over and

over again.

So I told Derek, “I’m leaving.”

He thought I meant leaving the competition team. Everyone did. But I was leaving the country.

By the time Thorne realized what had happened, there wasn’t a single trace of me left.