ou wor

za delivery driver. Where do

m ar

"He's my coworker. My par

ora. Why didn't you te

ems seriously and can diplomatically talk to others. I'm the complete opposite of that. I can't argue with someone because I start crying or feeling bad, and I end up crying. When I'm

t have food. I work, and mom do

heat on her. What a waste of a woman," he blurted out, looked

n't gotten out of bed and gone to buy food.

ll be resolved, and if you need

ly. "Your mom likes me m

ight," he closed his eyes,

of my flaws is that I don't like people staring into my eyes, at least not for too long. I've always hated it when they gaze at me while we're talking. That's why I always avoid physical cont

" in desperation. He laughed loudly and told me that it was true. Men like to do it, and it provokes unimaginable sensations. I'm not sure what sensations my father was referring to. I've had two boyfriends in my life, and nei

and I noticed that the boy would talk to himself when he thought no one was watching, and that he would move his leg anxiously w

nt hours talking to him about how annoying my study partner was, how much it bothered me that he made so much noise while eating, and how detestable his way of speaking was. He used to spit a lo

e would be over. I accepted. No one was going to deprive me of my freedom, and with all the things going on in my head, I didn't care what he tried to do. After a while, he started following me. He was crazy, a

the guys. I left the coat I was carrying on the

ert, how

I was going to send Julian, but he has more orders than you tonight, so you'll do it for him. The house is en

ake sure the order l

rfe

n the hallway, and I sm

e a lot of o

lau

once, he treated me like crap. He slammed the door in my face! That idiot made me so angry. I told Gilber

hink you're doing it again. Relax. I'l

see," h