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City of my love Samantha Young

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Title: City of my love

About the book “City of My Love” by Samantha Young

Fear is a human condition in which we are afraid for our own or for the lives of loved ones, we are afraid to take certain actions, we are afraid of society. Sometimes this is a justified feeling, but often fears prevent us from living fully. However, fears can be different. We may be afraid to change jobs because of our insecurities and insecurities, or we may be afraid to leave a terrible person because we don’t know how to live without him.

Samantha Young's book City of My Love tells the story of a girl who is used to taking care of her brother. The father abandoned them long ago, and the mother loved to drink more than her own children. As a result, the sister became a mother for her brother, forgetting about herself. Her whole life was devoted to her brother's life. She even chose men who could provide for both her and her brother.

Such sacrifice for the sake of a person often occurs in our lives. As a result, one lives the way he wants, gets all the joys of life and thinks only about himself. The other one does not see the people around him; for him there is only one person in the world, for whom he will do anything. As a result, one day everyone will be unhappy.

At one fine moment, as should happen in the life of any Cinderella, she meets a real handsome prince. Samantha Young decided to follow an already beaten path in her book “City of My Love.” Joe's life changes dramatically. She falls in love, but her old life does not let go, and this is where real passions begin.

Samantha Young's book "City of My Love" belongs to the genre of novels. This is a story about how one chance meeting can change your entire life. Quite serious life problems are touched upon here, and the complex characters of the characters are revealed. After all, in real life there are often women who, because of their mental problems, are ready to sacrifice their children for the sake of drinking. There are also tyrant men who, again because of their complexes and shortcomings, are ready to beat their wife and children. As a result, failed individuals like Joe grow up. At first glance, the girl seems absolutely spineless, but if you look closely, it becomes clear that she has a lot of strength. Not everyone can just give up their life for the sake of their younger brother. This is not to say that there was absolutely nothing in her life, but everything was built specifically around her brother.

Love is the feeling that makes people truly happy. That's what happened to Joe. It is worth noting that the book “City of My Love” by Samantha Young is intended for older readers, as there are many sex scenes. This novel will appeal to everyone who has lost peace of mind, wants to find an outlet for themselves, to change something in this life.

City of My Love by Samantha Young doesn't have deep philosophical musings or a masterfully intricate plot, but there is something more important here - love. The work is read very easily and quickly, and gives a lot of positive impressions to every reader.

For the first time in Russian!

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Quotes from the book "City of My Love" by Samantha Young

- Hi, Joe! – Nate exclaimed over the roar of the machine gun. “Did you happen to bring any sandwiches?”
That means who I am. Sandwich Lady.

In my opinion, there is something irresistible about them. After all, most of them tell about the most ordinary people who rose to the extraordinary. We read books about this every day. Simply, comics also have great pictures that illustrate what words cannot say.

-What happened to the terrible shyness?
Hannah somehow managed to shrug while lying down:
“I just felt that shyness was bothering me.”

You know, the world will always try to make you what it needs. People, time, events - they all try to cut here, paste there and make you believe that you don’t know who you are. But it doesn’t matter at all who they want to make you and what name they give you. If you stay true to yourself, you can cut through any shenanigans and still be yourself underneath it all.

Cam said that sometimes there comes a time when you have to break up with some people. They cannot be helped, and all attempts will only drag you into a quagmire.

“I apologize that what I said came out so bluntly.” But I don't apologize for saying it.

“Nothing more than an adjective and a noun put together, honestly.”

– Joanna Walker, you just took it to the next level of cool.

“You and Braden should be forced to join a club for men who need to be brought down to earth regularly,” Joss moaned.

Well, let's see how my communication skills falter when we try to explain all this to Cole.

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Edinburgh, Scotland

I looked at the painting and asked myself what kind of nonsense I was looking at. As for me, it was just a jumble of multi-colored lines and squares, with chiaroscuro here and there. For some reason the picture seemed familiar. Finally, I remembered that somewhere I had a drawing made and given to me by Cole when he was three years old, and very reminiscent of this creation. However, I doubted that anyone would buy Cole's drawing for three hundred and seventy-five pounds. But I would also question the sanity of anyone paying three hundred and seventy-five pounds for a piece of canvas that looked like it had been put up railway exactly at the moment when a train loaded with paints derailed.

However, sometimes looking around, I saw that most people in the gallery liked the work. I guess I'm just not smart enough to understand them. Trying to appear more educated and knowledgeable for the sake of my companion, I gave my face a thoughtful expression and moved on to the next canvas.

Hm, well, well, I don’t understand this,” a low, hoarse voice announced next to me.

I would recognize that voice anywhere. Her American accent was punctuated here and there by the melodious vowels or sharp consonants characteristic of the local dialect, the consequences of having lived in Scotland for almost six years.

Great relief washed over me as I lowered my head and met the gaze of my best friend Joss. For almost the first time that evening I smiled sincerely. With Jocelyn Butler, a straight-talking, assertive American, I ran the bar at a rather swanky place called Club 39. In this basement place on one of the city's most famous streets, George Street, we had been working together for five years.

Clad in a designer black dress and Christian Louboutin shoes, my petite friend looked absolutely stunning - as did her boyfriend Braden Carmichael. Standing behind Joss, jealously hugging her from the waist down, Braden positively beamed with confidence. Anybody's mouth would water at the sight of him. He was exactly the guy I'd been looking for for years, and if I hadn't loved my friend so much and Braden hadn't adored Joss to bits, I would have crushed her into dust to get him. Braden was almost six and a half feet tall, which was the perfect height for me - my impressive five foot ten inches in the right heels made me over six feet. Plus, Joss's boyfriend was sexy, rich, and witty. And he loved her without memory. They had been together for almost eighteen months, and I really felt like a marriage proposal was brewing.

“You look amazing,” I told Joss, looking around at her curves. My friend, unlike me, has large breasts, and it’s impossible to look away from her wide hips and ass. - Thank you both so much for coming.

Well, now you owe me a favor,” Joss grumbled, arching an eyebrow and looking around at the paintings. “I’ll have to tell a big lie if the author asks what I think.”

Braeden squeezed her waist and smiled down at her.

Yes, if the artist herself is as pretentious as her work, then why lie, because you can be brutally honest?

And that’s true,” Joss grinned in response.

No, no,” I intervened, knowing that if I remained silent, that’s what she would do. - Becca is Malcolm's ex-girlfriend and they are still friends. You'll pretend to be Robert Hughes and they'll throw me out to hell.

Robert Hughes? - Joss frowned.

There was such a famous art critic,” I sighed.

“I like it,” Joss grinned predatorily. - You know, they say that honesty is akin to piety.

I think it's about cleanliness, honey.

Of course about cleanliness, but isn’t honesty practically the same thing?

The obstinate twinkle in Joss’s eyes almost made my throat close. My friend was a force to be reckoned with, and if she had an opinion or wanted to say something, there was little you could do to stop her. When I first met her, she behaved incredibly secretively and withdrawn and preferred not to delve into the private lives of her acquaintances. After meeting Braden, she changed a lot. Our friendship grew stronger, and now Joss was the only one who knew the whole truth about my life. I thanked God for our friendship, but at moments like these I sometimes wished she had remained the same Joss - the one who kept her thoughts and feelings under seven locks.

I've been dating Malcolm Hendry for almost three months. He was perfect for me: kind, calm, tall - and rich. Malcolm was the oldest of my “sugar daddies,” as Joss jokingly called them, although at thirty-nine it was hardly worth calling him old. However, there was a fifteen year difference between us. I didn't care. Convinced that he may very well be thereby, I didn't want Joss to jeopardize the progress of our relationship by hurting his girlfriend.

Jocelyn,” Braden grabbed her waist again, looking at me and seeing my growing panic, “I suspect you’d better practice the art of insincerity today.”

Finally noticing the expression on my face, Joss put a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

I'm kidding, Joe. I promise to be a good girl.

It’s just...” I nodded, “everything is going so well, you know.”

Malcolm seems like a decent guy,” Braden chimed in.

Joss chuckled in a special way, but we both ignored her. A friend has already expressed her opinion about my fan. She was sure that I was using Malcolm, and he was using me. What's true is true. He was generous, and I needed generosity. However, the even greater truth was that I really liked him. Ever since my “first love” at sixteen, John, I had bought into the charming benefactors and the idea of ​​guaranteed well-being for me and Cole. But John got bored with his role as second fiddle in my family, and after six months he left me.

This taught me a valuable lesson.

And also new requirements have been put forward for the guy: he must have Good work, decent income, be flexible and hardworking. No matter how hard I work, without any qualifications or any real talent, I will never earn enough money to provide a stable future for my family. However, I am attractive enough to ensure man with good qualifications and talent.

A few years later, when I was putting myself back together after a failed romance with John, Callum came into my life - a thirty-year-old wealthy legal adviser, smart, educated, smart and experienced. Determined to finally succeed, I became what he imagined as his ideal girlfriend. I had already gotten into the habit of becoming someone else - since it seemed to work. Callum thought that I was ideal - for a while. We spent two years together until my secrecy about my family and my inability to let him into the house drove the wedge between us too deeply - and he left me.

Samantha Young

City of my love

Robert

Edinburgh, Scotland

I looked at the painting and asked myself what kind of nonsense I was looking at. As for me, it was just a jumble of multi-colored lines and squares, with chiaroscuro here and there. For some reason the picture seemed familiar. Finally, I remembered that somewhere I had a drawing made and given to me by Cole when he was three years old, and very reminiscent of this creation. However, I doubted that anyone would buy Cole's drawing for three hundred and seventy-five pounds. But I would also question the sanity of anyone paying three hundred and seventy-five pounds for a piece of canvas that looked as if it had been placed next to a railway line at the exact moment a train loaded with paints had derailed.

However, sometimes looking around, I saw that most people in the gallery liked the work. I guess I'm just not smart enough to understand them. Trying to appear more educated and knowledgeable for the sake of my companion, I gave my face a thoughtful expression and moved on to the next canvas.

Hm, well, well, I don’t understand this,” a low, hoarse voice announced next to me.

I would recognize that voice anywhere. Her American accent was punctuated here and there by the melodious vowels or sharp consonants characteristic of the local dialect, the consequences of having lived in Scotland for almost six years.

Great relief washed over me as I lowered my head and met the gaze of my best friend Joss. For almost the first time that evening I smiled sincerely. With Jocelyn Butler, a straight-talking, assertive American, I ran the bar at a rather swanky place called Club 39. In this basement place on one of the city's most famous streets, George Street, we had been working together for five years.

Clad in a designer black dress and Christian Louboutin shoes, my petite friend looked absolutely stunning - as did her boyfriend Braden Carmichael. Standing behind Joss, jealously hugging her from the waist down, Braden positively beamed with confidence. Anybody's mouth would water at the sight of him. He was exactly the guy I'd been looking for for years, and if I hadn't loved my friend so much and Braden hadn't adored Joss to bits, I would have crushed her into dust to get him. Braden was almost six and a half feet tall, which was the perfect height for me - my impressive five foot ten inches in the right heels made me over six feet. Plus, Joss's boyfriend was sexy, rich, and witty. And he loved her without memory. They had been together for almost eighteen months, and I really felt like a marriage proposal was brewing.

“You look amazing,” I told Joss, looking around at her curves. My friend, unlike me, has large breasts, and it’s impossible to look away from her wide hips and ass. - Thank you both so much for coming.

Well, now you owe me a favor,” Joss grumbled, arching an eyebrow and looking around at the paintings. “I’ll have to tell a big lie if the author asks what I think.”

Braeden squeezed her waist and smiled down at her.

Yes, if the artist herself is as pretentious as her work, then why lie, because you can be brutally honest?

And that’s true,” Joss grinned in response.

No, no,” I intervened, knowing that if I remained silent, that’s what she would do. - Becca is Malcolm's ex-girlfriend and they are still friends. You'll pretend to be Robert Hughes and they'll throw me out to hell.

Robert Hughes? - Joss frowned.

There was such a famous art critic,” I sighed.

“I like it,” Joss grinned predatorily. - You know, they say that honesty is akin to piety.

I think it's about cleanliness, honey.

Of course about cleanliness, but isn’t honesty practically the same thing?

The obstinate twinkle in Joss’s eyes almost made my throat close. My friend was a force to be reckoned with, and if she had an opinion or wanted to say something, there was little you could do to stop her. When I first met her, she behaved incredibly secretively and withdrawn and preferred not to delve into the private lives of her acquaintances. After meeting Braden, she changed a lot. Our friendship grew stronger, and now Joss was the only one who knew the whole truth about my life. I thanked God for our friendship, but at moments like these I sometimes wished she had remained the same Joss - the one who kept her thoughts and feelings under seven locks.

I've been dating Malcolm Hendry for almost three months. He was perfect for me: kind, calm, tall - and rich. Malcolm was the oldest of my “sugar daddies,” as Joss jokingly called them, although at thirty-nine it was hardly worth calling him old. However, there was a fifteen year difference between us. I didn't care. Convinced that he may very well be thereby, I didn't want Joss to jeopardize the progress of our relationship by hurting his girlfriend.

Jocelyn,” Braden grabbed her waist again, looking at me and seeing my growing panic, “I suspect you’d better practice the art of insincerity today.”

Finally noticing the expression on my face, Joss put a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

I'm kidding, Joe. I promise to be a good girl.

It’s just...” I nodded, “everything is going so well, you know.”

Malcolm seems like a decent guy,” Braden chimed in.

Joss chuckled in a special way, but we both ignored her. A friend has already expressed her opinion about my fan. She was sure that I was using Malcolm, and he was using me. What's true is true. He was generous, and I needed generosity. However, the even greater truth was that I really liked him. Ever since my “first love” at sixteen, John, I had bought into the charming benefactors and the idea of ​​guaranteed well-being for me and Cole. But John got bored with his role as second fiddle in my family, and after six months he left me.

This taught me a valuable lesson.

And also new requirements have been put forward for the guy: he must have a good job, a decent income, be accommodating and hardworking. No matter how hard I work, without any qualifications or any real talent, I will never earn enough money to provide a stable future for my family. However, I am attractive enough to ensure man with good qualifications and talent.

A few years later, when I was putting myself back together after a failed romance with John, Callum came into my life - a thirty-year-old wealthy legal adviser, smart, educated, smart and experienced. Determined to finally succeed, I became what he imagined as his ideal girlfriend. I had already gotten into the habit of becoming someone else - since it seemed to work. Callum thought that I was ideal - for a while. We spent two years together until my secrecy about my family and my inability to let him into the house drove the wedge between us too deeply - and he left me.

It took me two months to recover from Callum... And when I did, it was time to fly into Tim’s arms. The most idiotic decision. Tim worked for an investment company and was so incredibly self-absorbed that he I gave up his. Then there was Stephen, the sales director at one of those annoying peddling firms. He worked long hours every day, which I thought might work in our favor, but it didn't turn out that way. Joss believed that Stephen abandoned me because of my inability to adapt to life due to family responsibilities. But the truth is, I was the one who abandoned Stephen. He made me feel worthless. His comments about my complete worthlessness brought back too many memories. And although I myself thought that there was little in me that was worthy other than my appearance, however, when your boyfriend claims the same thing and you end up feeling like a paid escort, it’s time to get out of this game.

I could put up with a lot of nasty things from people, but I also had my limits, and the older I got, the more these boundaries narrowed.

Malcolm turned out to be different. He never gave me a reason to despise myself, and therefore our relationship developed quite pleasantly.

Where is our Winning Ticket?

I looked over my shoulder and looked for him, ignoring Joss's sarcasm. Then she muttered:

Don't know.

With Malcolm, I literally pulled out a lucky ticket. He won the EuroMillions lottery three years ago, quit his job - his career, actually - and was now enjoying his new life as a millionaire. Accustomed to always doing something, he decided to try his hand at real estate, and by now he had acquired a number of houses that he rented out.

Samantha Young

City of my love

Robert

Edinburgh, Scotland

I looked at the painting and asked myself what kind of nonsense I was looking at. As for me, it was just a jumble of multi-colored lines and squares, with chiaroscuro here and there. For some reason the picture seemed familiar. Finally, I remembered that somewhere I had a drawing made and given to me by Cole when he was three years old, and very reminiscent of this creation. However, I doubted that anyone would buy Cole's drawing for three hundred and seventy-five pounds. But I would also question the sanity of anyone paying three hundred and seventy-five pounds for a piece of canvas that looked as if it had been placed next to a railway line at the exact moment a train loaded with paints had derailed.

However, sometimes looking around, I saw that most people in the gallery liked the work. I guess I'm just not smart enough to understand them. Trying to appear more educated and knowledgeable for the sake of my companion, I gave my face a thoughtful expression and moved on to the next canvas.

Hm, well, well, I don’t understand this,” a low, hoarse voice announced next to me.

I would recognize that voice anywhere. Her American accent was punctuated here and there by the melodious vowels or sharp consonants characteristic of the local dialect, the consequences of having lived in Scotland for almost six years.

Great relief washed over me as I lowered my head and met the gaze of my best friend Joss. For almost the first time that evening I smiled sincerely. With Jocelyn Butler, a straight-talking, assertive American, I ran the bar at a rather swanky place called Club 39. In this basement place on one of the city's most famous streets, George Street, we had been working together for five years.

Clad in a designer black dress and Christian Louboutin shoes, my petite friend looked absolutely stunning - as did her boyfriend Braden Carmichael. Standing behind Joss, jealously hugging her from the waist down, Braden positively beamed with confidence. Anybody's mouth would water at the sight of him. He was exactly the guy I'd been looking for for years, and if I hadn't loved my friend so much and Braden hadn't adored Joss to bits, I would have crushed her into dust to get him. Braden was almost six and a half feet tall, which was the perfect height for me - my impressive five foot ten inches in the right heels made me over six feet. Plus, Joss's boyfriend was sexy, rich, and witty. And he loved her without memory. They had been together for almost eighteen months, and I really felt like a marriage proposal was brewing.

“You look amazing,” I told Joss, looking around at her curves. My friend, unlike me, has large breasts, and it’s impossible to look away from her wide hips and ass. - Thank you both so much for coming.

Well, now you owe me a favor,” Joss grumbled, arching an eyebrow and looking around at the paintings. “I’ll have to tell a big lie if the author asks what I think.”

Braeden squeezed her waist and smiled down at her.

Yes, if the artist herself is as pretentious as her work, then why lie, because you can be brutally honest?

And that’s true,” Joss grinned in response.

No, no,” I intervened, knowing that if I remained silent, that’s what she would do. - Becca is Malcolm's ex-girlfriend and they are still friends. You'll pretend to be Robert Hughes and they'll throw me out to hell.

Robert Hughes? - Joss frowned.

There was such a famous art critic,” I sighed.

“I like it,” Joss grinned predatorily. - You know, they say that honesty is akin to piety.

I think it's about cleanliness, honey.

Of course about cleanliness, but isn’t honesty practically the same thing?

The obstinate twinkle in Joss’s eyes almost made my throat close. My friend was a force to be reckoned with, and if she had an opinion or wanted to say something, there was little you could do to stop her. When I first met her, she behaved incredibly secretively and withdrawn and preferred not to delve into the private lives of her acquaintances. After meeting Braden, she changed a lot. Our friendship grew stronger, and now Joss was the only one who knew the whole truth about my life. I thanked God for our friendship, but at moments like these I sometimes wished she had remained the same Joss - the one who kept her thoughts and feelings under seven locks.

DOWN LONDON ROAD

Copyright c Samantha Young, 2013

© A. Olefir, translation, 2014

© Publishing Group “Azbuka-Atticus” LLC, 2014

Publishing house AZBUKA

All rights reserved. No part of the electronic version of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including posting on the Internet or corporate networks, for private or public use without the written permission of the copyright owner.

©The electronic version of the book was prepared by liters company (www.litres.ru)

Robert

Edinburgh, Scotland

I looked at the painting and asked myself what kind of nonsense I was looking at. As for me, it was just a jumble of multi-colored lines and squares, with chiaroscuro here and there. For some reason the picture seemed familiar. Finally, I remembered that somewhere I had a drawing made and given to me by Cole when he was three years old, and very reminiscent of this creation. However, I doubted that anyone would buy Cole's drawing for three hundred and seventy-five pounds. But I would also question the sanity of anyone paying three hundred and seventy-five pounds for a piece of canvas that looked as if it had been placed next to a railway line at the exact moment a train loaded with paints had derailed.

However, sometimes looking around, I saw that most people in the gallery liked the work. I guess I'm just not smart enough to understand them. Trying to appear more educated and knowledgeable for the sake of my companion, I gave my face a thoughtful expression and moved on to the next canvas.

“Hm, well, I don’t understand this,” a low, hoarse voice announced next to me.

I would recognize that voice anywhere. Her American accent was punctuated here and there by the melodious vowels or harsh consonants of the local dialect, a consequence of having lived in Scotland for almost six years.

Great relief washed over me as I lowered my head and met the gaze of my best friend Joss. For almost the first time that evening I smiled sincerely. With Jocelyn Butler, a straight-talking, assertive American, I ran the bar at a rather swanky place called Club 39. In this basement place on one of the city's most famous streets, George Street, we had been working together for five years.

Clad in a designer black dress and Christian Louboutin shoes, my petite friend looked absolutely stunning—as did her boyfriend Braden Carmichael. Standing behind Joss, jealously hugging her from the waist down, Braden positively beamed with confidence. Anybody's mouth would water at the sight of him. He was exactly the guy I'd been looking for for years, and if I hadn't loved my friend so much and Braden hadn't adored Joss to bits, I would have crushed her into dust to get him. Braden was almost six and a half feet tall, which was the perfect height for me—my striking five-foot-ten would be over six feet in the right heels. Plus, Joss's boyfriend was sexy, rich, and witty. And he loved her without memory. They had been together for almost eighteen months, and I really felt like a marriage proposal was brewing.

“You look amazing,” I told Joss, taking in her curves. My friend, unlike me, has large breasts, and it’s impossible to look away from her wide hips and ass. “Thank you so much for coming, both of you.”

“Well, now you owe me a favor,” Joss grumbled, arching an eyebrow and looking around at the pictures. “I’ll have to tell a big lie if the author asks what I think.”

Braeden squeezed her waist and smiled down at her.

– Yes, if the artist herself is as pretentious as her work, then why lie, because you can be brutally honest?

“That’s true,” Joss grinned in response.

“No, no,” I intervened, knowing that if I remained silent, that’s what she would do. – Becca is Malcolm's ex-girlfriend, and they are still friends. You'll pretend to be Robert Hughes and they'll throw me out to hell.

- Robert Hughes? – Joss frowned.

“There was such a famous art critic,” I sighed.

“I like it,” Joss grinned predatorily. – You know, they say that honesty is akin to piety.

“I think it’s about cleanliness, honey.”

– Of course, about cleanliness, but isn’t honesty practically the same thing?

The obstinate twinkle in Joss’s eyes almost made my throat close. My friend was a force to be reckoned with, and if she had an opinion or wanted to say something, there was little you could do to stop her. When I first met her, she behaved incredibly secretively and withdrawn and preferred not to delve into the private lives of her acquaintances. After meeting Braden, she changed a lot. Our friendship grew stronger, and now Joss was the only one who knew the whole truth about my life. I thanked God for our friendship, but at times like these I sometimes wished she had remained the same Joss, the one who kept her thoughts and feelings under lock and key.

I've been dating Malcolm Hendry for almost three months. He was perfect for me: kind, calm, tall - and rich. Malcolm was the oldest of my “sugar daddies,” as Joss jokingly called them, although at thirty-nine it was hardly worth calling him old. However, there was a fifteen year difference between us. I didn't care. Convinced that he may very well be thereby, I didn't want Joss to jeopardize the progress of our relationship by hurting his girlfriend.

“Jocelyn,” Braden grabbed her waist again, looking at me and seeing my growing panic, “I suspect you’d better practice the art of insincerity today.”

Finally noticing the expression on my face, Joss put a reassuring hand on my shoulder.

- I'm kidding, Joe. I promise to be a good girl.

“It’s just...” I nodded, “everything is going so well, you know.”

“Malcolm seems like a decent guy,” Braden chimed in.

Joss chuckled in a special way, but we both ignored her. A friend has already expressed her opinion about my fan. She was sure that I was using Malcolm, and he was using me. What's true is true. He was generous, and I needed generosity. However, the even greater truth was that I really liked him. Ever since my “first love” at sixteen, John, I had bought into the charming benefactors and the idea of ​​guaranteed well-being for me and Cole. But John got bored with his role as second fiddle in my family, and after six months he left me.

This taught me a valuable lesson.

And also new requirements have been put forward for the guy: he must have a good job, a decent income, be accommodating and hardworking. No matter how hard I work, without any qualifications or any real talent, I will never earn enough money to provide a stable future for my family. However, I am attractive enough to ensure man with good qualifications and talent.

A few years later, when I was putting myself back together after a failed romance with John, Callum came into my life - a thirty-year-old wealthy legal adviser, smart, educated, smart and experienced. Determined to finally succeed, I became what he imagined as his ideal girlfriend. I had already gotten into the habit of becoming someone else - since it seemed to work. Callum thought that I was ideal – for a while. We spent two years together until my secrecy about my family and my inability to let him into the house drove the wedge between us too deeply - and he left me.