"Traffic?" she asked without turning around.
The rain was hammering against the café window, a steady rhythm that matched the dull ache in my temples. I swirled the lukewarm coffee in my cup, avoiding the gaze of the man across from me. My best friend, Andri. review ternyata istriku cantik
My breath caught. I knew that smile. I had seen it exactly once before—on our wedding night, when she’d tripped on her gown and we both burst into unexpected, helpless laughter. For three years, I had been living with a ghost of that woman. "Traffic
"You looked beautiful," I said.