People assumed things about Call girl nagpur. That she was aloof, hard to read, complicated. But it wasn’t mystery — it was layers. And the truth is, very few ever cared enough to peel them back. They wanted her surface, her smile, her spark. But not the quiet grief. Not the long nights she sat staring at ceilings, holding herself together. She wasn’t closed off — she was guarded. Because in a world that consumes women and then forgets them, she had learned to protect the parts of her that still believed in love.
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