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She covers her face with her hands and holds them there. “What are you doing?” I ask, trying not to laugh. “I’m manifesting.” “What are you manifesting?” “Peace, love, and goodwill to men.” I snort. “So, you’re trying to manifest yourself into a Hallmark card?”
“Now, I’m done fucking around with you,” I tell her. “You wanna fuck? Tell me when. You wanna fight? Please. Let’s. Tell me why you’re pissed. But I won’t do this guessing game with you anymore. Got it?”