And it was best that way, she knew. But it was also awkward. Not to mention difficult. Always having to guard her tongue and her heart. Always having to pretend that it meant nothing to her when he touched her, or looked at her, or spoke to her in public in that warm, interested way of his. Because none of it was real, she reminded herself. And if she forgot that for more than a moment, she as nothing but a fool.
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