“After my mom died,” I began, the words coming slowly, “my dad was... destroyed. Completely shattered. He tried to hide it from us kids, but I remember waking up at night and hearing him crying in their bedroom.” I swallowed hard. “He never really recovered. Not completely.” Tempest’s expression softened, but she remained silent, giving me space to continue. “I was six, but I understood enough. Loving someone that much meant losing them could break you. And that scared the hell out of me.” I met her eyes. “The two-week rule started in high school. Long enough for fun, short enough that no one
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