Then he looked at his wall. There were hundreds of pictures on it, overlapping each other and curling at the corners and falling to the floor. At first, when he'd been adding to it constantly, he'd thought it was sweet - he'd imagined showing Molly, and smiled as he imagined her face lighting up. "This is gorgeous," she would say, and then she would kiss him. Now, though, he wasn't so sure - was it sweet, or was it odd? Perhaps it was the ritual of it he had liked, finding the picture and printing it out and sticking it to the wall - now it was done, and he had found every picture he was likely to find, he didn't know how he felt about it. It was undoubtedly lovely to look at - it had to be, because it was Molly - but that was all. It didn't fill him with the same awe it once had.
*This is a dark billionaire romance short story which contains some very steamy love scenes. It is only appropriate for mature readers age 18+.
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