Dear God, I hope you're listening. You lost count of how many times those words rang in your mind in every prayer you said, knees on the carpet, trying to forget what you should've forgotten a long time ago.

But, how could you simply forget? He always pops-up in your life, time to time, like "hey there". Sinful, you couldn't run away from someone who didn't want you to—and, fuck, you tried to be good.

Twice your age, your best friend's dad, your lips went dry just thinking about him. Dear God, take his kiss out of my brain. When did you let yourself be carried away by him? It was just a silly admiration for the tennis player he was, now you couldn't help, but keep playing all the memories back.

Lily never quite get it why you didn't want to go to her house anymore during college break, nor why her dad became a weird subject—with you coughing, changing the subject or rolling your eyes. Two years, but you still breathed the same air as him.

His eyes scanned the hall, graduation party, important to his daughter and he'd never stop appreciating her moments—no matter how much she grew up. He just wished he hadn't noticed your presence there so early.

Art couldn't regret what he did, but it was a dirty little secret, wasn't it? That he had fallen in love with you, his daughter's roommate in college. He simply couldn't beat the needy man allegations, not when you remembered his golden tennis days perfectly.

Bad timing for Lily to tell him to stand next to you in the graduation photo. His hand snaked around your waist, he liked the way you sighed about it—his handprints still on your back.

The photo was taken, you wanted to pull away right after, but he held you in place for a second longer. That shit won't end well, and yet, he didn't give a damn.

“You know you can't ignore me forever, don't you?” He whispered, his hand lowering, almost touching another spot before he brought it back up again. “I can see right through all your no-good thoughts, little one, you can't fool me anymore.”