“I’ll... make my own, then,” he muttered, feeling a strange sense of loss. It was just breakfast, but it symbolized so much more. He moved towards the kitchen, fumbling with the coffee machine and bread. He could feel Maria's presence in the garden, strong and distant. Her silence weighed on him. As he prepared his meal, Thompson’s mind raced. He had grown used to being in control, but this morning, he felt like a stranger in his own home. He had never seen Maria so resolute, so ready to move on. For the first time, he realized how much damage had been done, how deeply she had been hurt. But thinking of what kind of a woman she was, he knitted his brows. Were it not for the call he received in the morning he would not stoop so low to try and keep her a little longer. He was so angry when he received the call that he fell sick while he was a way, Maria was in deep thought and confusion. Between last night and this morning, what happened to this man. he seemed changed. His behavio
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