Seven Years of Love Seven Minutes of Truth

I knew he was watching me, but I didn't turn back, walking away step by step.

My phone rang, and I answered.

"Before, you wouldn't break up even when I threatened you. You cherished him so much. Now you just end it? Did he hurt you?"

"No, Mom. He didn't hurt me. We just weren't right for each other."

"Is it about money? I've been thinking if he's poor, he's poor. You think I complained about money because I'm materialistic? I just didn't want you suffering with him."

"Mom, we don't keep in touch after breaking up. I can't find him anymore."

"How is that possible..."

How could it not be? Some people are just passing through, but their weight is so heavy.

They become the boldest stroke in life's chapter, unforgettable through the years.

Alex wasn't one to persist desperately - some people can't be held onto, letting go is more dignified. Yet loss is a process, penetrating thoughts through accumulated time. Though he had no damp emotions spreading wildly.

But that day, by chance, Mrs. Thompson cheerfully asked: “Does your girl still like those cinnamon rolls? The ones I'd make fresh every Sunday morning? I was about to bake a batch."

He stopped, regret flooding in like a tide, pain spreading finely through his chest.

"She's gone." "Mrs. Thompson, there's no more girl who loves your cinnamon rolls anymore.”noveldrama