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Chapter 17

Wesley suddenly got up, walked around the meeting table, and inched closer to me. "Look at me! Answer me! Do all the good things I've done for you over the past five years mean nothing at all? How could you be so ruthless?" He looked at me with a gaze mixed with suffering and confusion as if I were the ungrateful one. I silently looked at him agitated and in pain. Surprisingly, I felt nothing, even after five years of infatuation, sacrifice, and pain. As it turned out, once one gave someone up, nothing mattered anymore. I smiled and looked at him, enunciating, "Wesley, you want to talk about feelings?" I explained icily, gazing at his stiff expression. "Are you casually brushing off what I did for you? When I took the knife for you? When I got hurt for you? When I aborted the child?" "The good things you mentioned doing for me, you say? Did that mean calling me when you needed me and kicking me away when you didn't? Or perhaps calling me a lapdog in front of your men?" I took on
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