LXXIII

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🚨PLEASE READ🚨
I mentioned this in chap 51, but I absolutely hate the first 50 something chapters of this book, since I started it back in 2018 and my writing style has changed a lot, so once the book is over, I will leave it up for a bit and then unpublish it, leaving only the prologue up, and I will rewrite all the chapters.
YES it will be different, new scenes and stuff, but the plot will be the same

I AM ALSO SORRY FOR NOT UPDATING BUT IM IN THE MIDDLE OF EXAMS I HAVENT EVEN USED MY PHONE EXCEPT A COUPLE OF TIMES ILL REPLY TO YOUR COMMENTS/MESSAGES WHEN ILL BE DONE W THEM I APOLOGIZE

AND THANK YOU FOR 2M WTF THIS IS CRAZY I LOVE YOU BABIES TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES FOR MAMA VV 💖💖💖

AND THANK YOU FOR 2M WTF THIS IS CRAZY I LOVE YOU BABIES TAKE CARE OF YOURSELVES FOR MAMA VV 💖💖💖

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"Ali, I can't help you if you don't say anything... And it would be a shame to have my balls cut off by either my best friend or your boyfriend before you can get something out of this visit." Nikolaos joked lightheartedly, his tone in heavy contrast with my diametrically opposed desperation, and he kept on gently stroking my hair to soothe me, brushing out a few knots with his fingers in the meantime, stubborn knots that had formed after days of me neglecting to take care of my hair. 

After wasting 10 days locked into my house like some sort of prisoner, precious time I'd spent mostly obsessively checking my phone, not talking to my dad but only getting dirty looks from him, and crying to my poor Sapphire as she tried to help by licking my tears away with her sandpaper tongue, I had come to the conclusion that that hostile environment only aggravated my already unstable condition, so I had dragged myself to Nikolaos' place at 5 pm on a sunny afternoon, taking only the essential with me, which I'd stuffed into a small suitcase.
By now, I already had a couple of missed calls from my father, nothing I was in the mood to handle, and I pushed them to the back of my mind, comforted by the knowledge that he was never going to look for me at his best friend's house.
I glanced up at him, adjusting my head on his legs and wiping some of my tears away, figuring that it was maybe time to speak after having thrown away an hour sobbing like a baby. "He's— he's not my boyfriend." I managed to screech out, more warm water clouding my vision, until my ex-lover was nothing but a human-like figure with indistinct facial traits.

The last sighting of Lorenzo Visconti dated to over a week earlier, when every member of our immediate families had found out about our scandalous, indecent and disgusting affair— my father's poetic words. After that, not a word had come out of his mouth, phone, or fucking text bubble, nothing. Radio silence. Had he left New York without looking back, unwilling to put up with me and the problems I'd caused him? Had he miraculously made up with Olivia and metaphorically kicked me to the curb? Had his wife or his son killed him? Those were all questions left unanswered, queries that never exited my brain, not even in my sleep, for I had even dreamt about a plethora of different possibilities, with only a small percentage of them being somewhat positive, yet hardly realistic.
Rationally speaking, I knew that I was not going to get my happy ending, not after being disregarded like that by the one man who had promised me forever, and it was probably time to move on.

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