“It’s the gospel truth. You need evidence? Walk with me,” Roland said, his voice steadfast.

Roland’s fork met the table with finality as he rose, poised to take Delia to witness Millie’s transformation.

“Sit down. Her beauty, even if genuine, is irrelevant. Will she even bat an eye at you? Your history with her is a stained canvas.”

Delia struck the table, her voice Like a whip.

Touching his head as if nursing a wound, Roland slumped back into his chair, deflated.

“Indeed, but ugliness does spoil one’s appetite.”

entertained thoughts of shattering

Angela’s Library

her

Look at the door revealed Delia’s vibrant peonies, a symbol of feminine fondness. Surely, Millie, too, cherished such

sink, courage sprouted within

the pristine street, a

a generous bouquet

gift bestowed

Millie recoiled, sneezing at

a subtle furrow of her brow, Roland’s

very own abode, I plucked these blossoms. I understand they lack adornment in their current state. Kindly accept them for now; tomorrow, I shall procure for you flowers

revealing his meticulous transformation. A switch of T-shirt and

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