As I stand by the door of Chapter Three, Dominic steps in behind me, his arms sliding around my waist, pulling me flush against him. He leans down, his breath warm against my ear. “What do you think?” I can’t even pretend to fight the smile. “It’s perfect.” He presses a slow kiss to my neck, holding me tighter. This isn’t just a bookstore. It’s a home. A family. Proof that love—messy, imperfect, real love—exists. That it was always real. That I was never foolish for wanting it. And now? It’s mine. Love. Family. Friends. Purpose. And romance books. For the first time, I’m not just reading the
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