“I have no right asking you for favors,” Garrett starts ruefully. “I know I haven’t been very welcoming to you. When you came home with Stan for the holidays. When you showed interest in my camp. I probably could’ve been…less dickish.” I shrug. “All good. I don’t hold grudges.” “I usually don’t either. But I will say”—he offers a pointed frown—“I don’t love that you didn’t ask for my blessing before you married her.” I tip my head at him, curious. “Would you have given it?” “No.” A snort slips out. “Then, better ask forgiveness than permission, right? Because I would’ve married her either way.
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