The appearance of a handsome man could not be erased from my mind. The way he kissed my hand, the way he looked at me, and the way he'd smile. Why should I think about that man? What a dimwit I was. How could I fulfill my promise, that I wouldn't trust and be closed to anyone, if I was showing the fragile version of myself again?The same with the glass that was so easily broken and, after being broken, couldn't be repaired again, and the pain I got would stay forever. But I didn't worry too ...