Saving My Younger Self From The Man I Loved
Language: en
I walked up to them with a heavy wooden club in my hand, right as Alexander Knight and the younger Eliza Thorne were about to share a private moment. “If you dare take her out again, I will break your leg.” “Excuse me, who the hell are you?” They both turned simultaneously, Alex’s arm instinctively shooting out to shield Eliza. The memory of that protective gesture—a gesture he would repeat countless times in our life together—flickered violently through my mind. The club was trembling slightly in my grip, but my voice was unnervingly calm. “Me? I’m Eliza Thorne, eight years from now.”