I made a promise when I was ten.
She was my best friend, my soulmate.
I knew it then and I know it now, fifteen years later after that promise was made.
Luna Nightingale.
My moon.
My regret.
My love.
I spent so many years living with the lie I spread about us, the lie that broke my promise to her.
She left town after we graduated because she hated me.
But she was back.
And she still hated me.
And I didn’t care what I had to do, I’d get her back.
No matter how many fires I had to face to gain her trust in me, I’d fight until the last breath left my lungs.
I made a vow. And I planned to renew it.
