Mini

Days blurred into each other, a swirling kaleidoscope of stolen moments with Camila and the ever-present undercurrent of guilt. The sterile walls of the penthouse, once a constant reminder of my isolation, now echoed with the phantom melody of laughter and whispered promises. Camila, a whirlwind of energy and passion, was a welcome distraction, yet the discordant note of Maggie's absence continued to resonate within me.

One particularly restless night, as I stared out at the twinkling city lights, the weight of my unresolved issues with Maggie settled heavily on my chest. The memory of her tear-streaked face, the hurt reflected in her eyes, wouldn't be silenced by Camila's intoxicating presence. Reconciliation, true reconciliation, couldn't be built on the foundation of a new relationship.

With a renewed sense of purpose, I decided to face the music. The sterile comfort of the penthouse felt suffocating, a stark contrast to the turmoil within me. I needed to see Maggie, to apologise
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