![]() In spite of feeling so small I force a note of certainty into my voice, making sure that I sound unwavering, delivering my message as clear as a bell. I also get a sense that the way I handle this will set a president for the future, I’m livid that he even thinks that I would lie but at the same time, underneath the bubbling anger, I see the inherent insecurity that was horribly compounded by me leaving. ![]() I take a shaky breath, steeling myself when I realise that true Fifty is never far away. I falter, the shock thieving my coherent thoughts while he cuts me off, barking, “spit it out Anastasia, tell me – now!” The heat of an angry blush stings the apples of my cheeks just as humiliated tears brim dangerously in my miserable eyes. What?! Suddenly the seductive background song Adele’s Make You Feel My Love seems oddly jarring, inappropriate.
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