She can’t be . . . No. There’s no fucking way. “Hold on . . .” I take a deep breath, trying to make sure my voice doesn’t come out shaky. “You . . . you like bologna sandwiches?” “Love them,” she answers with a smile. Mother. Of. Fuck. This is the worst-case scenario out of all scenarios. This . . . this is blasphemy. This is bullshit. This can’t be the world I’m living in. No, this is a nightmare. Someone punch me. Poke me. Stick a chopstick right up my dick hole. Pull me away from this disaster I’m living because, oh my fucking God, the girl of my absolute dreams, the one that’s been
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