Blair's POVThen, he spoke again, his voice laced with desperation. "Blair, please. Just give me half an hour. I'm at the coffee shop across from the hospital. The one with the red awning. Come on, just listen."The coffee shop across from the hospital. The one I frequented on breaks, the one with the surprisingly good blueberry muffins. The thought of seeing him there, in a place I considered a haven, twisted my stomach into knots."I don't know, Thomas," I mumbled, torn between anger and a sliver of morbid curiosity."Please, Blair," he pleaded. "This is important. I won't take up much of your time."He sounded genuinely remorseful, a stark contrast to the arrogant jerk I remembered. A small part of me, the part that still held onto a flicker of the love we once shared, felt a pang of sympathy. But the bigger, stronger part of me clung to the anger, the betrayal.Letting out a defeated sigh, I finally relented. "Fine," I conceded, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. "But thirty mi
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