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... sent.
Her eyes lingered on the golden, crispy fried chicken in the picture. She swallowed unconsciously, her throat dry with longing.
Fried chicken... she wanted some too.
God, she really wanted it.
Damn it—what kind of life was Richard living in there?
The more she thought about it, the more something inside her twisted and soured.
Especially now that she knew he was doing it on purpose—deliberately flaunting it to disgust her—the resentment in h ...
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