Two days later, he texted: “Hey beautiful. Been thinking about you. Can I come over tonight?”
Every instinct told me to block him. Instead, I agreed. I needed to know what he would try.
He arrived with a cheap bottle of wine and a smile. Within minutes, he hinted at “a rough week” and joked about needing “a place to crash for a few nights.” His tone was casual, but his eyes gave him away.
I let him talk. Then I stood.
“I know who you really are, Marvin.”
The room froze. His smile vanished. For a moment, we stared at each other in silence. Finally, he shrugged. “You got me. Whatever.” Then he left without another word.
Finding the Others
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