Prologue

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Consternation was among me.

Where had I placed it?

My mind was running, creating lists across lists of areas my stupid hands could have left it.

As the idiotic things hanging on my wrists rummaged through the dresser, I was concerned with the thought of never being able to touch it again, to hold it.

Why was I like this? I'd ask myself this a good million times every single passing day, it seemed.

To rely on something so useless, so absolutely confusing to others, it just did not make any sense at all. But, to me, it did.

I was losing focus, I had to continue looking.

The jumbling thoughts in my neglectful brain kept me occupied from hearing the bedroom door creak open.

"Tyler?"

It was her voice that always left me in a trance and could get me to snap out of my distressed state.

Then, in my hands was placed the leather journal, and my body shook with relief.

"You left it on the coffee table in the living room," She whispered, grabbing my awful hands and placing a kiss on their knuckles. I pulled them away from her, placing them on the back of her neck so that my lips could touch hers.

I'm a forgetful idiot, that was for sure.

What I would do without Rose? Yeah, that was a question...

Sincerely, Tyler  ▸ (Sequel to Dear, Rosemary)Where stories live. Discover now