“I knew your name. Years ago, Darby talked about you all the time. Her wild and free older sister. Her best friend. She talked about how much you’d love Pacific Shores and all of us. How much she missed you.” I bring my hands to her hips, holding her tight against me. “I knew your fucking name, Dahlia. You were so goddamn close, and yet so far away from me. If I had asked more questions, asked to see a picture, would it have clicked?” I breathe against her soft, sweet skin. “Would I have seen your face and known instantly what you would become to me? Could I have been the one to save you from
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