“Five months ago, I hated you. I would’ve done anything to bring you down. Now I’m wondering how I lived so long without you.” “You’ve always had me,” I say. I reach up and cup his cheek, my thumb running over the rough scratch of his beard. “In a way, I’ve always been yours.” I might love you. I think I’ve been waiting for you for a very long time. The thoughts ping-pong around in my brain. They cement themselves with certainty, a lightning strike in an open field. One second ago, it wasn’t there. Now, it’s all I hear. I love you. I love you, I love you, I love you. When he kisses me soft and
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