“I’m waiting for the day I have no more stitches, cast, cane, or limp. I don’t know how you can stand to look at me.” Buck cupped her face in his hands. Her right eye was still black and purple, her forehead crimson. Her right cheek was sunken where teeth were missing, and her cheekbone was broken. “Chloe,” he whispered, “when I look at you I see the love of my life.” She started to protest and he shushed her.
Because of course he did
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