~~PEYTON~~ I'm not in the wrong place, am I? Because I'm starting to feel like I've made a wrong turn somewhere, maybe a whole series of them, that led me right back here. His stare isn't a simple look. It feels like he sees through my cheap suit and the exhaustion in my eyes, all the way to the pathetic reality I've been running from. Did I really trade everything—my pride, my sanity, my life—for a marriage that feels more like a prison? Is this what it all comes down to? All the fights, all the bills, and nights alone, just to end up standing in front of him, feeling like an absolute fraud? He's not just looking at me. He's making me look at myself. "Your stares are making me uncomfortable, sir." I clip, my face is cold too cold to show your boss. Raphael finally shifts, twirling his chair around and back. He sighs like he's exhausted just from looking at me. "You won't last one week anyway, so let's get this over with," he says with both hands clamped on the table. "Now
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