Anya wanted to talk again last night. What the bloody hell are we meant to talk about? "I shagged Xander, I'm sorry." "Yes, I know, pet, but you chose me, so it's over." "But I'm worried I've hurt you!" "I'm fine!" And so it goes, on and on. She's been like this all bloody week. Now she's got it into her head that I don't like her because I don't
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