JOHN’S POV

I was sitting at the old as f*ck wooden desk in the guest room that I had been given. The powder blue paint was flaking off and there was something charming about it. I peered over and stared at what looked like a broken heart etched into the wooden top with initials in it.

“A and A?” I traced them with my fingertip and raised an eyebrow, wondering who’s they were. I assumed one of the A’s was Abigail, but who was the hell was the other one?

My phone ...