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Déjà vu

Chris

Joelle's cheeks flushed as my words hung in the air like a bridge between the past and the present. In that moment, time seemed to fold back on itself, carrying me to a place of memories and emotions long buried. As she blushed I remembered what a brilliant student she had been, how I’d been unexpectedly drawn to her, the kiss we had shared and the hell that came after that. I knew it was time to apologize to her. I knew I would like never get another chance. “Joelle, I need you to hear me out,” I told her. “I’m sorry for…” I implored, my voice tinged with sincerity. My intention to apologize hovered in the air, caught between the gravity of past mistakes and the possibility of healing wounds. But before my words could find their path, she silenced me with the gentlest of gestures—two slender fingers pressed softly against my lips. Our eyes met, a silent exchange laden with emotions. There, within the depths of her gaze, I glimpsed not only pain but also a reservoir of kindness,
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