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101. (Clay POV)

Pulse pounding in my temples, my jaw clenched tight, I couldn't shake the vivid anger that surged through me. Standing in Luke's trashed apartment, the weight of my own regrets bore down on me.

The resentment grew as I broke into his apartment—again. It's as if he had a flair for ticking me off in new and inventive ways. "Great," I thought bitterly, "now she gets to meet Drunk Luke too. What a grand introduction to our lives before her."

The tangible tension of the moment weighed heavy on my shoulders as I surveyed the room, my eyes falling on Luke's disheveled form on the couch. I was livid, the kind of deep-seated anger that sits low in the gut and refuses to budge.

I had a gnawing suspicion this would happen; the fear had been there from the start, ever since I'd first seen the way Luke handled his addiction. But to witness it unravel like this, endangering Lexi in the process, churned my insides.

My hands clenched into fists involuntarily. Fuck, what I wouldn't give for five un
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