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He said he deserved it.
I said we needed to count the money.
He kissed my forehead and told me I worried beautifully.
That was one of Calebâs tricks.
He could make condescension sound like romance.
For years, I mistook that for charm.
The sprinklers clicked across the narrow lawn between our mailbox and the sidewalk.
Mrs. Palmerâs dog barked twice next door.continue reading âŚ
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