“That’s it Yash. I can’t take it anymore. And I am sorry that I trusted you.” I left the voice message, put the phone down and turned to take my bags.
I looked around the house, my home and left the keys on the door with tears rolling down my cheeks.
We built our dream home. Even the tiniest thing in our home testifies the love we shared; every corner witnesses our vows, our happiness, our sorrows, our passion, our trust.
We weaved a perfectly beautiful dream that just silently crushed under the betrayal of Yash.
Dreams are an illusion.
Linking to Friday Foto Fiction