“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.”

she entertained thoughts of shattering her bowl upon Roland’s unsuspecting

Angela’s Library

her are like a

the door revealed Delia’s vibrant

glance at Delia, busy at the kitchen sink, courage sprouted within him. He spirited away the vibrant blossoms to

moment, Millie, fresh from a meal at Joan’s, strolled the pristine street, a serene smile playing on her lips, basking

hastened to her side, proffering a generous bouquet with a hopeful

a gift bestowed upon

sneezing at the fragrance, which

by a subtle furrow of her brow, Roland’s voice carried a nervous timbre as he ventured to

current state. Kindly accept them for now; tomorrow, I shall

his meticulous transformation. A switch of T-shirt and the exchange of slippers for sneakers portrayed his newfound sartorial

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