I met her on assignment. Fell in love with her fighting spirit and effortless, unadorned beauty.
She was killed right before my eyes.
When I saw her walking—sparkling—through the lobby of that hotel, I felt that love, once laid to rest, had been resurrected in my heart.
I would have done anything she asked… and I did!
Can any love survive a second betrayal? I speak not of her trap or of her lies, but of her second death… holding her in my arms, I watched as life faded from her eyes.
People wonder why I avoid commitment!