Poor girl, she met a scumbag who didn't love her.
The priest left, leaving Lydia Brooke alone in the church. Lydia tightened her grip on the bouquet in her hands, and murmured in a somewhat hoarse voice, "Jorge, I believe you will definitely come. Jorge, I'm waiting for you....."
The sunset slowly descended.
Lydia stood alone in the church, waiting for Jorge Saxton.
She waited and waited, not eating or drinking all day, waiting for Jorge Saxton to arrive.
As night was about to fall, Lydia, with a heart as dead as ashes, finally heard the phone in her hand ring.
The caller ID showed the name 'Jorge'.
For more than ten years, those two words had penetrated her very bones, already inseparable from her.
Hope kindled in Lydia's eyes, the joy on her face was so apparent, her fingers trembled uncontrollably with excitement as she pressed the answer button.
"Hello, Jorge, I knew you would come, so I've been waiting for you, I've been waiting for you in the church."
