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Tasha began climbing the stairs to her bedroom, and once inside the room and slamming the door shut, her thoughts became more chaotic. The suffocating force of the door closing sounded even louder than it typically did in the house. She released her handbag to the ground, obviously irritated as she threw her shoes away. Decorated tastefully and lit by subtle lighting, her room was almost always pleasing, but tonight it was warm and oppressive.

She stood in front of the bed, unable to rid herself of the distasteful mixture of feelings assaulting her. The moment with Fabian kept replaying in her mind, it was his pause, that politeness he insisted on keeping between them. It hurt more than she wished for it to.

Tasha let her body sink into the bed, gazing blankly at the ceiling above for every possible reason, except for due to peace. It infuriated her how much she cared how much she had wished things were different, wished for anything to go beyond what it was that they had. But it was
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