Brooke Wierciszewski

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Still kneeling on the wooden deck, I drop my face into my palms, trying to figure out how to make this better. I realize that I don’t know, but I stood in a church, in front of a lot of people who care about her, and promised to comfort her. To nurture this relationship when life is simple and when it’s not. Right now, things are not simple. But the way I’ve come to feel about her is.
Wild Side (Rose Hill, #3)
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