Pour que tu m'aimes encore – Part 2

You first met her four years ago, when she was working the auto show. She was dressed in a short shiny blue dress, a white bolero and white boots. With her hair tied up in a ponytail, you couldn’t help but think that she was one of the most beautiful girls you had ever seen.

You remember the way she spoke, her words strong and deliberate, as though she rehearsed each line in her mind before speaking. You remember the way she carefully looked at you as she spoke, as though trying to size up your intentions, too used to unwanted attention, and too weary.

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