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already agreed to host their betrayal.
Michael cleared his throat. “Rachel… we need to talk.”
I looked at him.
Then at her.
She lowered her eyes, but not in shame. It was calculation. Measuring. Waiting to see what kind of woman I would become in this moment.
Would I scream?
Cry?
Beg?
Break?
“I can see that,” I said calmly.
Michael shifted. “Things didn’t happen continue reading …
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