The cold glow of her laptop screen flickered in the dimly lit apartment. Maya sat cross-legged on the couch, skimming through yet another article on relationships. She was good at this—studying, analyzing, dissecting emotions like a scientist in a sterile lab. But real connection? That was another matter entirely. She prided herself on her independence, on her ability to keep people at arm’s length. It had worked for years. Relationships, to her, had always felt like a game she didn’t quite understand. She could follow the rules, mimic the …
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