As these words were spoken aloud, Graham Frye's pupils suddenly contracted. The woman then turned her head back and left without a second glance, arm in arm with another man in front of him—"But I've realized that it was just my wishful thinking after all. Let bygones be bygones, no hard feelings. Thank you, Young Master Frye, for your past hospitality."
She left, and just as she did, a gust of wind blew in at the door. Graham felt as if the wind had passed right through his chest.
It's said some people come into your life like a gust of wind, causing a flood of emotions. But Graham didn't believe it. He thought those were just beautiful encounters conjured up by poets, and that the world couldn't possibly have so many stunning yet regretful moments.
He simply didn't believe it. How could a mere gust of wind provoke such a flood?
Yet now, he was truly overwhelmed by a huge tidal wave, finally realizing that he had once brushed past Violet Don.