"Annie? You alright?" Richard watched how Annie furrowed her brows and saw a tiny droplet of sweat form on her temple. "What's wrong?"

"N–nothing," she lied. "I'm just tired. I think I'll go take a nap."

The elderly man had known Annie since she was seventeen. After all that time, did she think he wouldn't be able to know when she wasn't telling the truth? Surely, Annie was more intelligent than that. However, he didn't question her.

Richard merely watched the love of his life walk away and into the building. Had he known this would be the last time he witnessed her walking, he would've followed her.

But he didn't.

He let her leave.

Just the same way he'd done all those times before. Richard always allowed Annie to slip through his fingers, but like an Australian boomerang, somehow, she always returned.

Their life was like a never-ending cycle.

They hated each other one minute, then the next, Richard would call and say he loved her. Annie never returned those three words; instead, she told him he was selfish, careless and heartless.