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Don’t be a slave to the insanity of keeping time and keeping up. Now is the only thing you have control over, and even so, it’s an illusion.”
Boiling over, I move to the kitchen and gather the carrot cake I had frosted earlier, Sean’s favorite, and walk back to where Dominic sits and smash it into the back of his head. He shoots up from the couch as I gather more ruined cake in my hand and slap it into the side of Sean’s smiling face.
“I don’t think I’ve ever told you that. You smell like wood, like cedar and sunshine and I love the way you smell, and I would hate it if I couldn’t smell you anymore. And I do take you ser-ser-seriously.”