Debbie Roth

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“I’ve been working out,” he typed. “How do I look?” I saw the message, but I didn’t reply right away. He looked beautiful. He looked like hope. He looked like happily ever after. He looked like peace and contentment and love. He looked like safety. I wanted to say all of this to him, but I needed time to think.
Only Say Good Things: Surviving Playboy and Finding Myself
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