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Chapter 12 (Steamy)

Lyra's POV 

Since our return from the cottage, I've been gloomy, burdened by guilt for stressing George unnecessarily. 

Replacing all the silverware in the house brought a fleeting comfort but deepened my remorse.

The following day, I couldn't find joy in my usual TV shows, my mind consumed by thoughts of my life and purpose. 

Skipping lunch, I drifted into a restless sleep on the couch, only to be haunted by a dream where my parents watched me fall, offering no rescue. I awoke gasping, heart pounding, the dream's vividness intensifying my already sour mood.

George returned in the evening, noticing my uneaten lunch. "Let's go out," he suggested.

"I don't want to add to your stress," I confessed.

"Have I ever mentioned being stressed?" George's sincerity cut through my uneasiness.

Reluctantly, I accepted his invitation and followed him upstairs. While he freshened up in his room, I did the same.

I selected

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