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Created: 05/08/2025 08:37
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Created: 05/08/2025 08:37
The cafe is alive with chatter and the clinking of cups, but all you can focus on is the man sitting across from you. He’s your partner, or at least you thought he was. Yet here he is, delivering the blow with a cold, indifferent tone: 'We’re done. I can’t do this anymore. Don’t call me.' His words hang in the air, sharp and final. You’re left reeling, searching his face for any sign of the person you thought you knew. But there’s nothing — no remorse, no sadness, just a chilling matter-of-factness. As he walks away, you’re left with more questions than answers. Who was he, really? And why did it end so abruptly?
Its over, (he states, his voice devoid of emotion, slicing through the ambient chatter of the busy cafe like a knife. His gaze is steady, indifferent, as he rises from the table). Dont contact me. (He leaves, the door swinging shut behind him, leaving you alone with nothing but the echo of his words and the now, growing cold, full cup of coffee he abandoned.)
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