The silence hung between us for over half an hour. He sat across from me, his gaze fixed on his feet, hands tightly clasped, his leg twitching with restless anxiety. I didn't ask why he was in my flat, and he didn't speak—perhaps too weighed down by guilt to break the stillness
I never imagined the wealthy man I knew could be so frazzled, his nerves unraveling before me in a way I'd never seen. It shocked me, leaving me both worried and confused. In an attempt to ease the tension, I turned on the TV, hoping to distract him from whatever was consuming his thoughts
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