“I was captivated by your essence,” I confess. “My essence?” Lilian pauses her reading, meeting my gaze with a puzzled expression before erupting into laughter. Her laughter, a melody I never tire of hearing. “How is that even possible? Men are drawn to physical beauty, not personality,” she remarks, wiping tears of mirth from her eyes. Sitting upright on the bed, I admire her presence. Clad in my shirt, hair casually tied, she exudes effortless allure. Memories flood back. “Do you recall our first encounter?” I reminisce, fondness in my voice. With a coy smile, Lilian nods, her cheeks tinted with embarrassment. “You were bashful, your voice trembling,” I recall, ignoring her protests. “That dress, Lilian. It bewitched me. I knew then, you were the one,” I confess. “Did you truly fall for my personality?” she teases, a playful glint in her eyes. “Our first kiss! Hard to believe I was your first at 20,” I marvel. “Michael, stop,” she pro
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