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SIXTY SEVEN

Sandra's pov

I stood outside Ruth's door, my heart racing with anxiety. I had come to plead with her to come back to the hotel, to see Michael. He had been a mess since she left, drinking heavily and feeling depressed.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. Ruth answered, looking beautiful but guarded.

"Sandra, what are you doing here?" she asked, her voice firm.

"I came to talk to you about Michael," I said, my voice softening. "He's not doing well, Ruth. He's been drinking a lot and feeling really down. He misses you."

Ruth raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure he does," she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "But I'm not going back, Sandra. Not yet, at least."

I felt a pang of desperation. "Ruth, please," I said, my voice pleading. "Michael needs you. He loves you."

Ruth shook her head. "I know he does," she said. "But I need some time, Sandra. I need to figure some things out."

I sighed, feeling frustrated. "What's there to figure out, Ruth? You know how Michael feels. You know
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