The winery was large, filled with the sweet fragrance of grapes and the scent of wine. Isabelle thought the air in this place smelled perfect.
In the evening, Isabelle lay on the bed. After checking her messages, she turned off her phone and set it aside. She looked over at George, sitting on the side of the bed with wet hair just washed, looking at a stack of photos of the two of them.
Ethan kept quite a few pictures of the two of them together. The photos in George's hands were freshly printed. George kept these developed photos all the way.
He sat sideways, his profile looking more three-dimensional under the light. Still, at this moment, he was smiling at the photos, his demeanor lacking the usual coldness.
Isabelle had never found him cold. And he had never treated her with indifference either.
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