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‘Are you OK?’ he asked with an intriguing worry in his voice, looking gently at my hand pressed on my heart. ‘Yes,’ I said, trying not to sound too distracted. The ache, separating my heart into imaginary pieces in the least expected places, went on for a couple of weeks. I never really understood why it hurt. He took a step in my direction, then he hesitated to approach me when I gave him a look. Although it is nice of him to care as much as he does, I wish he didn’t.