Ledger’s back to blindingly gorgeous. Like staring into the sun, it hurts. So much so, fierce guilt seeps in for looking at him. Because it doesn’t take more than a blink of an eye for every drop of love I gained for him to surge and flood my veins. In pristine fitted jeans, he’s wearing a navy sweater rolled up to his elbows that stretches across his filled-out chest, forming to his trim torso. His restored thick, dark hair is styled with gel in a tousled swoop, raked by his hands. And his carved jawline, it’s no longer hidden by an untamed beard but sculpted by well-groomed stubble. Though
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