Alyson Munion

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The way his brows furrowed as he watched the car drive away had my heart threatening to burst. The protective stance, the concern—it was everything I knew he’d be as a father. But witnessing it was different. Witnessing it hurt me in a way that I couldn’t explain to even myself. I was getting a glimpse of the life that should have been mine. Time had never been on our side. And that certainly hadn’t changed.
After the Storm (Cottonwood Cove, #5)
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