Dear Mr. Black,

I know you were hurting. I heard your cries for help. I wished over and over again that I could make it better, but as you stated I was too inexperienced; too good for someone as bad as you.
Perhaps you were right, but it didn’t matter because what I did know was that I loved the way you felt—loved the way you smelled. I loved how hard you got for me, and when you called me your Little Knight.
I had been madly in love with you ever since I was twelve years old, but I shouldn’t have been.
My best friend—your daughter—Isabelle would have hated it. I couldn’t afford to lose her. Besides, you two had already lost enough. Losing Mrs. Black was the epitome.

It’s me, Chloe Knight.
I wanted to be there for you no matter what, but Isabelle needed me too, and she would have hated me if she ever found out I was sleeping with her father.