“I just…I’m okay, now.” I search her face for any lingering fear and drop my forehead to hers when I don’t find any. “You can tell me.” “I know,” she answers but doesn’t elaborate. Finally, I pull back and grab the remote, and a sewing show appears on the screen. It’s some kind of competition to see who can make the best dress. I reverse our positions so I’m pressed against the sofa and she’s tucked into my side. “We don’t have to watch this.” She hesitates. “You like it, right?” I murmur. She looks at me sideways, an adorable line pinched between her brows. “Uh…yeah.” “Then it’s what
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