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49 — No. Fuck, don't!

SELENA

The car pulled to a stop outside the hospital, and for a moment, we just sat there, not moving. Christopher's knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel. The silence was deafening, and I wasn't sure how to break it. I didn't want to make things worse, but I couldn't stand the stillness any longer.

"Are you angry with me?" I asked, my voice trembling. My eyes welled up with tears as I stared at my trembling fingers, unable to look him in the eye. I was afraid of what he might say.

He sighed heavily, running his fingers over the steering wheel. "I wish I could be angry with you, Selena," he said, his voice heavy with emotion. "But I can't. I just can't." He shook his head, his frustration evident. I felt like my heart was breaking, hearing those words. I didn't know what to say, or what to do.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice small and vulnerable. It was a phrase I had uttered so many times in the past few days, that it felt like a broken record. But this time, it felt dif
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