“Have you put anymore thought into your living situation?” “I want my own place,” I say firmly, realizing that Muse has already fallen asleep on my shoulder. I release his hand and unbuckle my seat belt, gently adjusting him so that he flops down on the pillows to his left. “I spent years making Kevin's place just right, putting all my love and effort into somebody else's space. I want to make a go of it on my own.” I toss the black afghan we stole off the bus over the gentle rise and fall of Muse's chest, standing up straight and slicking the rich purple-red strands of my hair into a
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