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When Time Stood Still

Evelyn

Jacob Adriano was strange—enigmatic and weird, to be precise. Why did I suddenly arrive at this conclusion? Well, the reason isn't akin to a lengthy explanation or a solution as explosive as an atom bomb. It was rather simple. Extremely simple, actually. It all boiled down to him placing the blame squarely on me for our failure to complete the painting the previous night. Yes, this Italian man truly believed that it was my fault. Ironic, right?

"I still can't believe you're unwilling to change your statement," I remarked incredulously. His unwavering determination grated on my nerves. I had a conflicting urge to either punch him in the face or kiss him.

Ugh! I despised the fact that he was so fucking handsome!

"Why should I change my words? The blame lies with you. You're the reason we wasted the entire night. It's entirely your fault," he casually strolled over to the painting supplies, handing me a set of brushes. "Come on, we need to paint."

My jaw nearly hit the floor. The
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