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Book 3: Deja Vu

If before, on the same date I decided to wear a cream-colored dress, the color Jiro loves most on me; this time I donned a short black dress to signify my mourning, for the life I lost and the love that deceived me.

"Jiro," I opened the door, and there he was, still as mesmerizing as he always had been.

As expected, he has a bouquet of tulips on his hand.

I tried to plaster a smile on my face though in truth the anger I felt at the moment has exceeded even my own expectations.

There are so many things I would rather say than the lines, "Are those for me?"

"Yes," Jiro said without a hint in his voice as to what he means.

I wonder if Jiro can see how much I despise him, I wonder why he even bothered to give me flowers when I was nothing to him, nothing but the silly girl who foolishly loved a monster all her life.

That is what he is, a monster, the very reason my life ended before I can even understand what he was.