44

I didn't dare think too long about anything, fearing spending hours with my brain on fire for questions that didn't deserve an answer: How many times was that woman devoured by her vivid memories? How many times did she wish the death of the one who had ruined her? Would you have been able to forgive him?

I carefully observed the features forged on his pale skin, slightly flushed at strategic points. She had a beautiful smile, although a wide scar interrupted the side of her lower lip. His hair curled below his shoulders, shining in platinum strands. He wore a weak makeup, highlighting his lips by a discreet red.

My eyes evaluated the midnight blue dress that wrapped around her thin waist and exposed her thick thighs. There were folds on the skirt of the dress; not enough to leave it full, just a way to cut the straight length. The neckline consisted of a triangular shape, although the sleeves were long and lacy. She pushed away her sunglasses and kept them in her bag, slightly raisin