I left my marketing job and started working part-time at a small bookstore downtown. It didn’t pay much, but for the first time in years, I could breathe. Surrounded by paper and quiet, I felt whole.
At night, I wrote. I had always written — poems, short stories, half-finished novels — but Grandma had been the only one who believed it mattered.
So, I started posting my writing online under a pen name. I expected nothing. But slowly, comments began to appear — strangers thanking me for putting into words what they’d never been able to say.
And that’s when Liana walked into my life.
The Second Person Who Believed in Me
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