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#Chapter 46: Maybe I Will

Rowena

The sound of fists pummeling leather filled the air as Eric stood with his back turned to me, sweat running down his skin. He almost seemed to be hitting his punching bag with a primal, feral intensity—almost as though he was trying to get out his anger, or perhaps his frustration.

I wasn’t sure why I just stood there, staring at him. Maybe it was simply fascination with his form.

 
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