“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.”

such an extent that she entertained thoughts of

Angela’s Library

my past behavior. But now, my feelings for her are like a fire. I

Millie lingered in Roland’s thoughts. A casual Look at the door revealed Delia’s vibrant peonies,

busy at the kitchen sink, courage sprouted within him.

street, a serene

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

a gift bestowed upon

recoiled, sneezing at the fragrance, which

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

these blossoms. I understand they lack adornment in their current state.

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