Pratique du Shadowing: My Stepfather to Soul-Mate ⭐ Graded Reader || Improve Your English Fluency ✅️|| Audiobook - Apprendre l'anglais à l'oral avec YouTube

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My name is Leah.
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283 phrases
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My name is Leah.
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This is my story.
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It is not a happy story, but it is true.
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I made big mistakes.
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I hurt people I loved, and I learned some of the hardest lessons of my life.
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I was 18 when it all began.
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I lived with my mom, Cora.
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My dad had left us years before, and for a long time, it was just the two of us in a small house and a quiet routine.
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Mom was often sad.
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She tried to hide it, but I could see it in the way she stared out the window, in how tired her smile looked.
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I wanted her to be happy again, to feel loved again.
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Then she met Troy.
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He was charming.
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He brought her flowers.
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He brought us food.
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He told funny stories that made her laugh in a way I hadn't heard in years.
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The house felt lighter when he was there.
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He was kind to me, too.
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Asked about my day, listened when I talked, complimented my schoolwork.
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No one had ever really listened to me like that before.
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Mom and Troy fell in love fast.
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They texted all the time, went on dates, came home smiling and glowing.
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It felt like we were finally getting a second chance at family.
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After six months, Troy proposed.
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Mom said yes through happy tears.
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I cried too.
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I was so happy for her.
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The wedding was small, simple, beautiful.
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Mom in white, Troy in a black suit.
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They said their vows.
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They kissed.
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We clapped.
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I thought, this is perfect.
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He will be a good stepdad.
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Our family is complete.
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He moved into our house.
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At first he had his own room, then he moved into Mom's.
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He cooked sometimes, fixed broken things, helped with chores.
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From the outside, it looked like everything a lonely woman could have wished for.
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For a while, I believed that.
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But then I started noticing small things.
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The way his eyes stayed on me a little too long.
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The way he looked me up and down when he thought I wasn't paying attention.
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I felt strange, but I pushed it away.
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He's mom's husband, I told myself.
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My stepdad, he's just being nice.
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Mom started working longer hours.
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She was out most of the day, exhausted when she came home.
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Troy, on the other hand, always seemed to have time.
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He drove me to school, gave me money for books, helped with homework, cooked when I was hungry, sat with me watching TV.
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Soon, most nights it was just Troy and me eating dinner at the table.
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Mom would come home late, too tired to talk, so Troy and I talked instead.
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I was young, I was lonely, and his attention felt good.
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One day, I came home from school in tears.
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I had failed a test and felt like a failure.
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Troy saw me, came over right away, and asked what was wrong.
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I told him everything.
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He said it was okay.
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That one test didn't define me.
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That I was smart, special, different.
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Then he did something new.
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He took my hand.
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His hand was warm, strong.
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He didn't let go.
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My heart started beating too fast.
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I felt confused, but I didn't pull away.
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We sat quietly like that for a long time.
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Something changed that day.
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I felt it.
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He felt it too.
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After that, he started texting me at night.
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At first, the messages were innocent.
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Good night, how was your day?
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You did well today, I'm proud of you.
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Then they became a good day.
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Then they became different.
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You're so beautiful, Laia.
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No one understands you like I do.
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Your mom doesn't see you, but I do.
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I read those messages over and over.
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They made me feel seen, important, chosen.
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Nobody had ever made me feel that way, not even mom.
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Soon we were meeting in secret.
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Small cafes, places far from our neighborhood.
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Mom wouldn't understand, he said.
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What do we have is special, unique.
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I believed him, completely.
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I started lying to my mother.
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I'm with friends, I'd say, when I was really with Troy.
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Guilt turned in my stomach, but his words were louder than my guilt.
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He told me I was his light, that I made him feel alive, that we had a connection he never had with mom.
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By the time I turned 21, I was deep inside his web.
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On my birthday, he gave me a necklace.
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For me, he said, just for me, not from your mother.
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I felt chosen, important.
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That night he told me he loved me, not like a stepfather, but like a man loves a woman.
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I was shocked, scared, flattered all at once.
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I could have said no.
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I could have told my mother.
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I could have walked away.
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But I didn't.
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I stayed.
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I listened.
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I believed him.
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He told me mom didn't really love him, that she didn't understand him the way I did, that we were meant to be together.
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He said he couldn't live without me, that I was his soulmate, and I, young, confused, starving for love, decided to believe those words.
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He told me his plan.
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He would divorce my mother.
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Then he and I would be together.
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A new life.
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Just the two of us.
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I cried at night, thinking about mom.
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I knew it would destroy her.
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But Troy's voice in my head was stronger.
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He filed for divorce.
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He never told her the real reason.
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I didn't either.
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Not then.
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Mom was broken.
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She pried for days.
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I don't understand, she kept saying.
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And I stayed silent.
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The divorce took months.
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When it was done, Troy was free.
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Then he proposed to me.
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He knelt down, held a ring, and asked me to marry him.
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I said yes.
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I thought it was romantic.
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I thought this was some kind of forbidden love story.
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When mom found out about us, it crushed her.
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She came to see me, screaming, crying, shaking.
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You took my husband, she said.
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You broke my heart.
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You my daughter, how could you?
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Her words cut deep, but I refused to listen.
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I told myself she didn't understand our love.
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The town turned against me.
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Friends stopped talking to me.
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People called me names.
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Homewrecker, traitor, worse.
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It hurt, but I told myself love is worth it.
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One day they'll see.
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We married anyway.
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A small, cold wedding.
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Very few guests.
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Very few smiles.
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I told myself, now it will all be okay.
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Now it's our turn to be happy.
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I was so wrong.
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After the wedding, Troy changed.
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The kind, gentle man I thought I knew disappeared.
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He checked my phone every day.
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Who are you texting?
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Why did you like that post?
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Who is this number?
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He didn't want me seeing old friends.
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They're bad for you.
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They judge us.
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I'm the only one who really cares about you.
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He controlled where I went, questioned everything, criticized everything.
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He called me stupid, useless, said I couldn't survive without him, said no one else would ever want me.
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He compared me to mom in a cruel way.
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You're just like her, spit, weak, pathetic.
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This wasn't love.
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This was control.
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This was abuse.
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But by then I was deep inside it, ashamed, isolated, afraid.
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One night the argument was so bad I was shaking.
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He yelled, I cried.
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I thought he might hit me.
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Something inside me snapped.
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I grabbed my things and ran.
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I didn't know where to go until my feet took me to the one house I knew best, my mother's.
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It was late.
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The sky was dark.
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My heart was beating out of my chest as I knocked on her door.
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Mom, please, open the door, please.
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I heard movement inside, but nothing happened.
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I slid down onto the step.
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I cried against the wood.
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Through the door, I poured everything out.
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Mom, I'm sorry.
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He changed.
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He controls me.
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He lied to me.
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I was young and I believed him.
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I made a terrible mistake.
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I begged.
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I sobbed.
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I told her I had nowhere else to go.
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After a long time, I heard the lock turn.
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She opened the door.
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Her face looked older,
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tired deeply hurt she didn't smile she didn't hug me you broke
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my trust Liya she said you took my husband you hurt me more than
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anyone ever has her words were true I didn't try to defend myself I fell to my knees crying I know I said
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I know, and I am so, so sorry.
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She didn't say it's okay, because it wasn't okay.
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But she stepped aside.
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Come in, she said quietly.
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And that was the beginning of my healing.
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I decided to leave Troy.
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He told me I'd be nothing without him, that I couldn't survive.
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But his voice finally sounded small.
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I found a lawyer, started the divorce process.
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It was long.
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It was painful.
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People talked about me again, judged me again.
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But this time, I knew I was doing the right thing.
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I went to therapy.
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I talked about Troy, about my choices, about my guilt and shame.
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My therapist helped me see what I couldn't see at 18.
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That what Troy did was not love.
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It was manipulation, grooming, control.
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That my logging to feel special had made me easy to use.
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That my loneliness had been a door he walked through.
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I started slowly rebuilding my relationship with my mother.
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It did not happen in one apology.
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It happened over years.
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I visited her.
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Sometimes she talked.
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Sometimes she sat in silence.
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Sometimes she barely looked at me.
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I accepted it.
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I stayed.
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One day she made me a cup of coffee.
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She didn't say much, just placed it in front of me.
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My hands shook as I took it.
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Thank you, I whispered.
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It was a small moment, but to me, It was everything.
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Another day, she asked, are you eating?
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Are you sleeping?
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Her voice was soft, but it was full of concern.
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Little by little, we planted new moments over the old broken ones.
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We worked in her garden together, pulled weeds, planted flowers.
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Sometimes we were quiet.
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Sometimes we laughed.
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She told me one afternoon how humiliated and alone she had felt after Troy left her for me.
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How she felt she had lost her husband and her daughter in the same moment.
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I held her hand and listened.
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I didn't defend myself.
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I let her pain be real.
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She told me there were days she hated me, nights she cried herself to sleep, times she prayed for the strength to forgive me, and failed.
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And still she kept praying, kept trying.
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Slowly her heart softened.
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Slowly she began to see me not only as the girl who broke her, but as her daughter again.
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The day she finally said, I forgive you, I cried like a child in her arms.
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Today I am 30.
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I live in my own small apartment.
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Blue walls, plants in the window, books on shelves, photos of mom on the wall.
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My home is quiet, safe, mine.
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I work in a bookshop I love.
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I have a few good friends who know me as I am now, not as the scandal of my past.
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I volunteer at a center for women.
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I sit with young girls whose stories look frighteningly like mine once did.
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I tell them the truth I wish someone had told me.
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is not love jealousy is not love pain is not proof
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of passion real love is kind real love is gentle
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real love is free not perfect not without struggle but never the kind that breaks your sense of who you are.
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One day I saw Troy again in the store.
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He was with a younger woman, maybe 19, maybe 20.
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Our eyes met for a second.
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He looked away quickly.
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For a moment, I felt a familiar sting.
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Then, only pity.
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I walked past them.
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I didn't stop.
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I didn't cry.
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I just kept walking.
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He no longer had any power over me.
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My name is Laya.
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I made terrible choices.
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I hurt my mother.
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I hurt myself.
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But I am not only my I am also the woman who faced them, who took responsibility, who chose healing, who rebuilt love where she had broken it.
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If any part of my story feels like yours, hear me.
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You can leave what is breaking you.
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You can seek help.
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You can be forgiven.
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You can forgive yourself.
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You are not the one who is breaking you.
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beyond repair you are not your worst moment you deserve real love and real love
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will never ask you to destroy yourself to prove it this is my story this is my truth and somehow after everything my life is beautiful again
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Shadowing English

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Why practice speaking with this video?

This captivating video titled "My Stepfather to Soul-Mate" offers an authentic glimpse into personal experiences, making it an ideal resource for English speaking practice. The narrative engages learners with emotional storytelling that encourages deeper connections to the language. By practicing speaking alongside Leah's story, you can enhance your fluency in English while absorbing everyday vocabulary and phrases. The way Leah describes her feelings, family dynamics, and the progression of her relationships presents numerous opportunities for shadow speech exercises.

Engaging with this content enables learners to imitate the speaker's tone and emotional expressions, crucial elements in IELTS speaking practice. Not only will you improve your pronunciation, but you'll also gain insight into natural conversational rhythms, preparing you for real-life discussions.

Grammar & Expressions in Context

The video uses a range of grammatical structures and expressions that enrich the storytelling and provide excellent english speaking practice opportunities:

  • Past Tense Narration: Leah frequently uses the past simple to recount memories, e.g., "I was 18 when it all began." Understanding and practicing this tense is vital for recounting personal stories.
  • Adverbial Phrases: Expressions such as "for a long time" and "then he moved into Mom's" highlight the importance of time markers in narration. Practicing these phrases can improve coherence in your storytelling.
  • Direct Speech: The use of quotes like "He will be a good stepdad" not only adds authenticity but also serves as a practical model for dialogue writing and speaking.
  • Emotionally Charged Language: Leah employs descriptive adjectives to convey feelings, such as "happy tears" and "tired smile," which are essential when expressing emotions in English.

Common Pronunciation Traps

When shadowing Leah's story, pay attention to specific words and phrases that may present pronunciation challenges:

  • 'Exhausted': The subtle emphasis on the second syllable can be tricky. Practicing this word will help engrain it into your vocabulary for describing feelings.
  • 'Charming': Ensure to pronounce the "ch" sound clearly and with the right intonation, as this word describes someone's appealing qualities.
  • 'Complimented': The rhythm of this multi-syllabic word may require practice. Break it into syllables to master it better.

Utilizing a shadowing app while listening to this video can help reinforce correct pronunciation and allow for instant feedback. By regularly practicing with this engaging narrative, you will significantly enhance your speaking skills and confidence in English conversations.

Qu'est-ce que la technique du Shadowing ?

Le Shadowing est une technique d'apprentissage des langues fondée sur la science, développée à l'origine pour la formation des interprètes professionnels. Le principe est simple mais puissant : vous écoutez de l'anglais natif et le répétez immédiatement à voix haute — comme une ombre suivant le locuteur avec un décalage de 1 à 2 secondes. Les recherches montrent une amélioration significative de la précision de la prononciation, de l'intonation, du rythme, des liaisons, de la compréhension orale et de la fluidité.

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