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14 | Remorse

Phoebe’s POV

Her eyes widen with alarm as she registers my expression and looks guilty as she tries to form words but ends up stammering.

I stop looking at her when I hear a knock on the door and tilt my head on the left side to look past Ava only to see a maid in her late 40s with a tray in her hand.

I nod my head for her to enter the room and immediately feel guilty for snapping at Ava like that. God, I literally sound confusing even to myself. Sometimes I wonder if anyone faced this mental dilemma like I do every day.

Yes! Every fucking day!

I was literally a step away from a complete psychopath to a severely depressed patient.

Sometimes I felt too much and other times I felt nothing.

Moments like these make me question if I will ever be cured again.

After that death, I shut myself away from others and nothing made me genuinely happy anymore. All those constant small things

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