Her expression is empathetic. She's not trying to hurt me. She’s trying to understand. Resting her hand atop mine, she says, "Finish the story about Logan." "To make a long story short, I shut off my phone and ghosted him. Then it died, and I hadn't come home. The next morning when I arrived, he had brought the cops to the house and told my parents he thought I was suicidal because of the sickness, which they knew nothing about. Needless to say, when I showed up wearing my new man’s shirt and doing the walk of shame in front of him, my family, and the police, I was livid. I haven’t heard from
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