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Sixty Four

"Stop scowling," Zach said, laughing, as I tried not to cry while slicing the onion.

"I am not scowling, I was trying not to cry in here," I answered, and I bit my lower lip. Then sniffed.

He was standing by my side and telling me what to do. I don't even know what we will cook. I just finished dividing the chicken into proportionate and boneless pieces.

I stopped what I was doing when his thumb touched the lower side of my eye. "You are scowling but crying," he said, grinning.

I was about to touch my face, but Zach stopped my hand from reaching. "That will make you cry even more, your hand has touched the onion."

Then I realized my hand. He gently wiped my tears, and I couldn't breathe. I stared at him, seriously, at what he was doing. In this closeness, I want to reach his face and touch it.

My heart was beating faster than my fluttery stomach. It's wrong, and I can't like him. No!

He liked Cairen, and I can't be her. I stepped away from him, which he didn't expect, and I cont
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