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Every chandelier shimmered with sterile perfection, every corner smelled faintly of lemon polish and wood, but underneath it all was the stench of humiliation.
Three days had passed since the end of the LST. Three days since Kieran had looked at me as if I were something pitiful, an inconvenience. And then walked away.
I’d told myself he just needed time. That after all the noise settled, he’d come crawling back like always—apologizing, rationalizing, making it up to ...
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