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33

"Minnie?" he called me again, as I wasn't giving him my full attention.

"Don't call me that," I frowned slightly in displeasure. Only people I held in very high regard could call me that.

"I'm sorry," he put his hands in his pockets and lowered his gaze.

"What do you want, Henry?" I crossed my arms and looked at him seriously.

He's so good at playing the victim, damn it.

"I already told you, I want to talk," he looked into my eyes.

"For what?"

"I'd like to make amends for my mistake," I saw he was about to say more, but I interrupted him.

"And you think words fix everything? That's your problem, Henry, you think that by giving someone a puppy-dog face and saying sorry, you can fix everything. But it's been eight damn months, I've changed, I couldn't care less about what you say. I know they're just lies," I felt relieved that my voice remained steady and serious.

I stared at him intently, I could tell my words hit him because he couldn't hold my gaze. He still stood a few inches away
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