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... inking of ways to torture her, he was also torturing himself. He realized he had never forgotten her: her face was constantly on his mind, and he wanted to crush her so badly.
He was not done hating her. Not yet. He threw the newspaper down and sat on the sofa as his tensed muscles began to relax against its softness.
When he closed his eyes, he dreamed but could not remember what it was. The corner of his lips curled up; he had no idea when he had last smiled.
A ri ...
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