A relationship that Miranda hadn't expected to blossom had finally flourished. Larry Harrison was a totally different person from Derrick. Miranda couldn't explain why she had to compare Derrick with Larry.
Remembering Derrick wasn't what Miranda wanted, but she couldn't forget how Derrick had kissed her. How he had held her closely that night and muttered his feelings for her. He had hidden it for long and pretended to hate her.
Miranda knew that if she had been born with a silver spoon, Derrick might not have looked down on her. But he did, not once, but many times that she couldn't recount.
As Miranda laid on her bed sleeping, she dreamt about Derrick again. He didn't look happy as always, this time, he was wearing casual home wear. They were in the Luis mansion, outside in the garde
